#and when i got out of the time loop just run around using those on the specific people...but also use what I learned on others

[eddis-not-eeddis]

.

[arolesbianism]

Some Brute doodles plus a bonus Button

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Mean!Dom!Joel Miller x Reader | Joel tames Reader’s bratty, bitchy attitude with a good hard FUCK | make-up sex but meaner 😈 | rough, rough sex | includes fingering, vaginal sex, Joel holds Reader’s throat (no choking) implied age gap, some butt stuff, use of ‘little girl,’ and ‘bitch,’ as demeaning terms, oral sex, spanking, degrading language used by both Joel & Reader

Joel’s eyes pierce through you, his voice simmering with anger. “If you run that little brat mouth of yours one more time, I swear to god-.”

“-What??” you taunt him. “What’re you gonna do, old man??” He doesn’t respond immediately, so you aggressively shove at his chest with both hands. “Tough guy??” you sneer. Joel clenches his fists in restraint. Your smile is intentionally cruel in an effort to provoke him. “You gonna hurt me, you fucking asshole??”

For a moment, a softness passes over his eyes; it never occurred to Joel that you’d imagine him capable of being violent toward you. He feels…heartbroken by your lack of trust in him, but refuses to let it show.

“Is that what you want?” Joel asks instead, forcing a coldness into his tone. “You want me to hurt you?” When you try to shove at his chest again, Joel is prepared for it this time. His big hands clamp around your wrists, his lips pressed into a hard line as he holds back your assault. You both grunt as he presses your hands back against your own chest, pinning them to you.

“You’re not doin’ shit to me, little girl,” Joel growls. “No matter how big you want to try ‘n make yourself-.” He removes one of his hands, proving that he can keep you restrained using only one. “-I’m still in charge…”

You glare at him, jutting your head forward so your spit lands directly on his mouth. Joel jerks at the sudden contact of your saliva hitting him, before scoffing and running his tongue over his lip to taste it. “That supposed to piss me off-?” Joel tugs one of your hands downward and rubs his erection against it. “-Or turn me on?” he asks. “Because to be fuckin’ honest-.” Joel grinds himself against the palm of your hand. “-It’s doin’ a bit of both…”

Your bitchy defenses are crumbling further by the second. At this point, you can’t even remember what prompted the fight you started with Joel. It began this morning, gradually building in intensity till it reached a boiling point five minutes ago. “…Joel,” you utter, your voice suddenly soft, and he sure as hell notices.

“Oh, now I’m Joel again?” he asks. “What happened to all those colorful names you were calling me, huh?” He smirks condescendingly, but his cock throbs against your hand. “Am I not an old man anymore? A fuckin’ asshole? Or-.” His eyebrow lifts, as if a sudden clarity has come over him. “Maybe what you meant to say-.” Joel reaches behind you and grips a handful of your ass, squeezing so hard you wince. “-Is that you want your asshole fucked?” His eyes are so dark, it’s almost frightening. “Does that sound about right?” Joel releases your ass, followed by a spanking so hard, tears form in your eyes.

You’ve gone uncharacteristically quiet after being humbled by Joel’s strength. “Now you’ve got nothin’ to say?” he snaps. Joel cups your hand over his erection and grinds against it. “About damn time you stopped fuckin’ disrespecting me,” he growls. “I can think of better uses for your dirty mouth, anyway.”

Joel’s hands go to your shoulders, pushing you down to your knees. Without a second thought, you reach for his belt, and he smacks your hand away, shaking his head at you. “Jesus,” he mutters. “This is how I know you were bein’ a bitch on purpose.” He unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops of his jeans, tossing it aside. “You wanna make it up to me bad, don’t you little girl?” He unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out, watching the shadow it casts over your hungry expression. Joel scoffs as if disgusted by your eagerness, but really, he’s getting off on it. “Quit embarrassing yourself and just start suckin’ it already,” he mutters down at you.

Joel’s cock points toward your lips, a dot of precum blossoming on its fat, ruddy tip. You swipe your tongue across it, collecting the pearly liquid. He takes his cock by the base and smacks it heavy against your cheek. “I said suck it,” he scolds. “Not give it a fuckin’ kiss.” Joel grabs you by the hair and pulls your lips over his cock, thrusting back and forth inside your mouth. “Have to do everything myself,” he grunts as you struggle to take him, spit bubbling around your lips and dripping to the floor. Joel’s body is curved forward, his stomach tensed as he fucks down your throat. He feels your muscles constrict quickly, telling him you’re about to vomit. Joel pulls out long enough for you to swallow back the vomit and catch your breath, his hand still locked in your hair, then immediately pulls you back over his cock and continues to selfishly use your throat.

When he feels the threat of vomit approaching again, Joel decides you’ve had enough. He wipes away the bubbly spit and mucus smeared over your face and neck. “On your back,” Joel orders, tugging his shirt over his head. “Panties off, NOW.” He nestles between your legs, spitting on two of his fingers before abruptly forcing them inside your cunt. Your eyes go wide, your back arching into a crescent as the sudden penetration overwhelms you. “You can take it,” Joel assures you, resting his cheek against your inner thigh, occasionally kissing the soft skin there while he fingers you. “Been smellin’ this little pussy all day, y’know that?” Joel smirks. “All the time we were goin’ back and forth at each other, I knew you were makin’ a mess all over your panties…”

Joel yanks his fingers from inside you and spanks your pussy, making you cry out. He doesn’t give you any time to recover before shoving his fingers back inside, pumping your guts like he’s angry at them. “You need an attitude adjustment,” Joel mutters darkly. “And probably a back adjustment too, by the time I’m done with you.” He flips you onto your stomach with his fingers still inside you. There’s a pressure against your asshole as Joel pushes his thumb just past its puckering barrier, penetrating you there as well. “Look at that,” he says, admiring the way you wiggle your hips to encourage him. “Keep pushin’ back on me like that ‘n I’ll put another finger inside you. Wear you like a fuckin’ puppet.” Joel chuckles darkly, his fingers toying inside your holes. “Guess that’d be one way to fix your brat mouth, wouldn’t it? Make you my little puppet so you can’t talk shit anymore.”

He pulls his fingers from your pussy and pops them in his mouth, sucking your arousal off of them with a groan. “Fuckin’ heaven,” he murmurs. “There’s nothin’ I’d rather do more than to bury my face in your sweet little cunt and lick you till you’re beggin’ me to quit,” Joel adds. “But that’d be a treat, and you don’t deserve it after the way you bitched at me all afternoon.”

He’s kneeling between your legs, his eyes coasting over your back and ass, admiring the pretty marks his hand left on it. He spits into his palm and takes hold of his cock, pressing his tip just against your asshole. He feels you tense, and smirks behind you. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” Joel teases, guiding his tip lower. “I’m not gonna put it in your ass.” He spanks you with his cock, your lips quivering around his tip. “God knows if I did, you’d make a mess all over the place and have to spend the night cleaning shit and cum out of the carpet.” Joel bucks into your pussy without warning, your lips parting in a low groan. “This way,” he breathes against your neck, his body curved over yours. “All you’ll be cleaning up is cum.”

Joel closes his hand around your throat, holding you in place with your back in an arch. He forces his cock as deeply inside you as possible, pulling back a little when he feels your cervix against his tip. “Hold still,” he gruffly orders. “You want to make things right between us, don’t you?”

You nod as best you can with Joel’s hand around your throat.

“Then be a good girl and lay here while I use you, understand?”

He lets you answer definitively, just to check in and make sure you’re alright. Joel may have been hurt and pissed off by your antics earlier this afternoon, but under no circumstances would he ever abuse you. He needs to know you’re alright with the kind of language he’s using, and the easiest way to do that while remaining somewhat threatening is to ask, “You think you’re ready to take what I’m about to give you?”

“Yes,” you reply without hesitation, knowing full well that if you said no, Joel would immediately stop. “I’ve been such a bad girl.” You feel his cock twitch inside you, so you keep going. “Need you to teach me a lesson…”

…And Joel does. He beats your pussy into submission, fucking you like he hates you when in reality, Joel doesn’t think he could love you more without his heart bursting open. He’s laying across your back, his body almost flush with yours, hands pinning your wrists to the ground beside your head. He rests his forehead against the back of your hair, panting hot and wet over your neck. With his big hand still closed around your throat, Joel pistons into you so hard your tits are smacking against his forearm with every thrust.

Your ass bounces off his stomach each time they collide, his cock punching frenetically between your warm, moist walls. Joel feels himself getting close, and prays he has the self control to pull out in time. You’re fluttering around him in a way that tells him you’re on the edge as well, so he continues to fuck you at the same pace that’s brought you both to this point.

When you start to come, Joel has to pull out. He knows you don’t want to get pregnant right now and as deeply as he’s fucking you, there’s no way his cum would end up anywhere other than all over your cervix if he stayed inside you.

As soon as Joel pulls out, he stuffs two fingers back inside of you and keeps up the same pace as his cock before. You ride out your orgasm on his fingers, while Joel uses his other hand to stroke himself. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he pants over your back, letting go of his cock just long enough to give your ass two hard swats. “Keep squeezin’ my fingers, just like that, fuck…” Joel closes his eyes and lets out a string of curses, his cock spilling warm and white all over his lap.

Your cheek is resting against the floor, a contented smile on your lips when Joel catches you watching him. “So,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. “Are we good, little girl?”

You bite your lip, nodding affirmatively. “Yeah,” you reply, your eyes getting heavy. “We’re definitely good.”

[megalony]

Just In Time

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, based on a request by anon. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: While Buck is at work during a storm, (Y/n) goes to spend the day with Athena. And subsequently ends up going into labour.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) slumped her left arm on the kitchen counter and turned the kitchen stool to the side when she heard loud footsteps approaching. Her eyes set on her husband and she did a quick sweep up and down his frame and bit down on the corner of her lip.

"You're leaving me?" Her lips curved into a pout and her head tilted to the side, causing Evan's heart to soften yet speed up at the same time.

He jogged down the last of the stairs and advanced across the apartment towards her with his arms stretched out in front of him.

As soon as he was within reach, Evan clamped his hands down on (Y/n)'s hips and moved to stand between her legs. He felt her knees pressing into his hips and her arms looped around his torso while her chin pressed into his chest so she could look up at him.

"Sorry baby, I gotta go to work." Evan leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss as his hands gave her hips a loving squeeze.

If he had the choice, he would stay home with her. Somehow, it didn't feel the same going to work without (Y/n) being there with him.

Evan was used to his wife working alongside him. He was so used to turning to her when he had a patient that needed transporting to the hospital and Evan loved those times when he got to ride in the ambulance and see (Y/n) at work as a paramedic.

The 118 really was a family-run unit, with (Y/n) being both Bobby's daughter and Evan's wife.

But she was on maternity leave now.

"Hmm, that's not fair, leaving me all alone." (Y/n) tilted her head down so she could press her face into his shirt and breathe in his scent and cologne.

(Y/n) didn't like being home alone, she didn't know what to do with herself and if Evan wasn't here to monitor her, she seemed to end up doing a lot more than she should recently.

"Sorry baby." He pecked the top of her head and rested his chin on her head for a few moments while he grazed his fingers up and down her side. "Promise me you're not gonna go out today, there's a storm and the last thing I need is a call saying you've had an accident or got stuck in this weather."

Evan panicked, he was a worrier by heart. But he knew his wife like the back of his hand. He knew she was becoming restless and didn't know what to do with herself when the nursery was already set up and they had everything ready for when their boy arrived. He didn't want (Y/n) going out when the storm was already rolling in and making itself known. Evan couldn't deal with that kind of phone call today.

He was on a double shift, he wouldn't be home until tomorrow afternoon and he dreaded to think what (Y/n) would get up to in that time.

"We get bored-"

"And I get worried. Please?"

A groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she looked up at Evan, feeling a shiver roll down her spine when she was met with his stern expression. Her hands grazed up and down his back and she leaned back on the bar stool until she was leant against the kitchen counter.

"Can you drop me at mums then? So I don't go crazy sitting on my own in here."

She watched Evan's expression soften into a warm smile and he nodded, pecking her temple again before he looked down at his watch.

If he was leaving her, (Y/n) would rather go somewhere and be with family so she wasn't alone. And she knew Athena wasn't at work today. They could have a catch up or watch some movies and just spend the day together. It would only be two weeks until (Y/n)'s due date and then there would be a baby in the mix, stealing all the attention.

(Y/n) and Evan had only been married three months before (Y/n) announced she was pregnant. As thrilled as everyone had been, they also took it as an opportunity to tease Evan. Telling him he didn't waste much time or asking if it was a shotgun wedding. The whole team loved to wind him up, but he didn't care.

He had his girl and now they were having a baby, Evan was going to be the happiest man at the station.

"Sure. Come on then, baby."

Evan slowly walked back so he was no longer stood between her legs and he held his hands out for her. He took her hands and helped (Y/n) slide down off the kitchen stool. He turned, about to walk towards the hall but he stopped when (Y/n) latched her fingers around his wrist and gave a sharp tug.

She pulled his arm close and pressed his hand against the side of her stomach so he could feel the baby wriggling. The movement made Evan's lips quirk into a lopsided smile and he brushed his thumb across her skin, waiting for another movement or a kick in his direction.

"Someone's happy today." He murmured softly and leaned down so he could press a kiss to her stomach.

(Y/n) held onto Evan's hand and followed him into the hall and she grinned, leaning against his back and his arm as she found her shoes. Evan had recently become her leaning post when she found it harder to lean over to bend down. It was why (Y/n) had gotten a pair of flat shoes that were easy to slip on and off so she didn't have to bend or pull them on.

She slipped her phone in her bag and hooked it on her shoulder, but both hands moved to grab the cabinet in front of her and she took a sharp breath when her back twinged.

"Okay?"

"My back twinged," Her fingers dug into the cabinet and her upper body arched forward to see if it would relieve the sudden twinge in her lower spine.

Her lips curved into a tight smile when she felt Evan's hand move along her back in slow, deep circles that did something for the pain and made her feel a little better.

"Maybe it's a sign you should take it easy," Evan murmured into the top of her hair. His hand continued to move along her back and his other hand moved to hold her arm for added support. He waited patiently for (Y/n) to take a deep breath and lean off the counter again but he could see the pain flicker across her face when she straightened up.

"It's a sign your son is a menace."

"Oh, so he's mine now, not ours?"

(Y/n) ignored his comment and tilted her head back to look up at Evan with a pleading glimmer in her eyes. "Tell him to be good?" She moved Evan's hand from her back to the lower side of her stomach and she waited as Evan leaned down to hover his lips over her bump.

"Behave, mister. Or else."

***

A crack of thunder broke through the sky and rattled the windows and the patio doors until it sounded like they were going to shatter. The rain beat down on the patio outside and a steady stream trickled over the stones and down onto the grass that was going to be flooded, come tomorrow morning.

(Y/n) shuddered at the thought of going out in this weather.

Her eyes glanced over at the clock on the kitchen wall. Seven o'clock. She had been here all afternoon and thankfully, the afternoon had gone by in a flash with Athena. They ate tea together, watched some movies and went through a few magazines and sorted through some things the station had got for when the baby arrived.

(Y/n) finished making two cups of hot chocolate and held one in each hand, but her eyes focused on staring out the kitchen window when she turned around. It looked like it was midnight with how black and dead the sky looked and all the white flashes rippling across the sky. The sheets of rain pouring down from the heavens didn't look much better, either.

She took slow steps back through to the living room but ended up shuffling her feet to see if it would dull the aching in her back and her lower stomach. The baby had shifted around again and now he was weighing heavy on (Y/n)'s abdomen to the point it was hurting every now and then.

"Thank you," Athena murmured as she placed down a bag of baby clothes near the coffee table and took her seat on the sofa.

Her hand moved to (Y/n)'s lower back and she watched cautiously as (Y/n) slowly sat down with a wince. She stayed sitting upright instead of slouching back into the sofa like before to see if it would do anything to help her discomfort.

"Well, I think you'll be spending the night with me, hun."

"Is that okay?"

"Oh, it's more than okay, you keep me company and I've had my instructions from Buck. We're not to go out in this weather, he said he'd come pick you up after work. And your dad would have my head if we drove out in this storm."

Athena didn't have a problem with (Y/n) staying over, it was the reason why they had the spare room here for friends and family to stay over. Although there was a lot of things packed into the spare room. Bobby was getting ready for his first grandchild and he was already planning ahead to the weekends when he could have his grandson stay over with them.

Leaning forward, (Y/n) took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked beyond the tv at the back garden. They hadn't drawn the blinds yet as both women rather liked watching the storm take hold and seeing the rain splatter down on the glass and sprinkle across the garden.

She looked over at the tv when Athena started searching for a new movie to watch, but she had to set down her mug when her stomach clenched. Her hand drifted beneath her shirt and she covered her grimace by biting down on her bottom lip.

When the baby started wriggling and hurting like this, it was when (Y/n) wished Evan was home with her. He had a knack for distracting her or giving a massage and the baby seemed to love the sound of Evan's voice.

"You okay?"

"Hm, he keeps moving." (Y/n) straightened up to click her spine back into place. And when she noticed Athena looking at her stomach, she smiled and gently took her hand, pressing it to the base of her abdomen.

They shared a smile between them and Athena danced her fingertips along (Y/n)'s stomach for a few moments before she turned to reach for the bag she brought in. She placed it on the floor between them so they could go through the garments together and decide which ones (Y/n) wanted.

It had been lovely that from the moment they told the team, everyone was overjoyed and wanted to be involved. (Y/n) and Evan got so many baby clothes and gifts from everyone that they had items coming out their ears now.

They started going through some items and had a movie on in the background, but (Y/n) could barely pay attention to anything.

Everything hurt.

Her back was twinging and felt like each column of her spine had weights pressed down on it like the bone was about to break. Her stomach was weighing heavy and every time she felt a twinge, she was starting to feel sick.

Maybe she needed to try and relax and get comfy to see if dozing off would take away the pain. God knows she had fallen asleep during enough movie nights with Evan this last month.

She heard Athena mutter something about finding them some snacks and she nodded, forcing herself to smile as she watched Athena head towards the kitchen. But (Y/n) moved her hand back to her stomach and started making slow circles beneath her shirt to see if it would help at all.

But then she felt it. A steady trickle of water between her thighs and a very sharp, tightening pain in her pelvis.

"Mum… ooh, mum!"

"Honey, what's wrong?" Athena set down the bag of goodies on the kitchen side and rushed back into the living room, skidding on the rug on the way.

She wedged herself between the arm of the sofa and the coffee table and knelt down at (Y/n)'s side. She placed one hand on (Y/n)'s knee and the other on her back, wondering if she had suddenly got back pains. Evan mentioned earlier that she had been having pains all week but that was normal.

(Y/n) couldn't bring herself to say anything. She just looked between her parted thighs, the floor, and Athena until her stepmum suddenly got the message and realised what had happened.

Her waters had broken. The pains she had been having all day were actually contractions. She was going into labour during a storm, without Evan here by her side like he promised to be.

"Okay… this is okay, give me a minute I'll go and call Buck."

Athena wasn't stupid. This was not the weather to be driving her daughter down to the materntiy ward at the hospital. She was a good driver, she was safe, she had to be since she was a seargent in the police. But that didn't mean Athena had been trained to drive during storms. It was too dangerous and if she crashed, they might not get help in time. Evan and Bobby might not find them or know what was going on if they crashed.

Staying here and getting help to come to them was by far the better and safer option and they both silently agreed on this.

Shuffling back a little, (Y/n) slumped back into the sofa and let herself sink into the cushions. She moved both her hands to cradle her stomach and began glaring daggers into her bump towards her baby. Why was he choosing to be born now? Why did he think this was a good time? It was two weeks early, right in the middle of a storm. Without Evan.

(Y/n) was expecting to go into labour any time from next week. Evan was supposed to be on shorter shifts as of next week so if this happened and he wasn't home, he could easily find his way back to (Y/n) and be there for her.

Her eyes looked up at Athena as she stood beside the sofa, one hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder and the other holding her phone to her ear.

Evan didn't answer.

"Buck, call me back please. (Y/n)'s gone into labour." She hung up after leaving a message and tried to ring Bobby instead.

He didn't answer either.

"Bobby, honey you and Buck need to come home when you get this message. (Y/n)'s with me and she's gone into labour. Call me."

Tears began to trace down (Y/n)'s face. She was afraid of this, it was her worst nightmare coming true. She knew the job was hectic and unpredictable, but she wanted Evan to be home when she went into labour, not out at work. She didn't want to be doing this by herself. Her only saving grace was she had decided to come here to be with Athena. She wouldn't have been able to do this on her own, at home.

Her eyes focused on Athena as she tried to smile and dialled for the emergency services instead. They would need to take (Y/n) to hospital soon and Athena wouldn't be able to do that. She would need medical help too if they had to wait a while for an ambulance to arrive.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"This is seargent Grant, I need an ambulance to my address. My daughter's gone into labour and she's thirty-eight weeks pregnant."

"How advanced is labour?"

"Her water just broke."

"Then can you keep her comfortable? With the storm, we have a backlog of emergencies and limited teams to dispatch. The current wait is almost two hours."

Panic struck a cord in Athena's chest and her hand tightened around (Y/n)'s shoulder. What were they supposed to do? Was Athena supposed to deliver her own grandson because they couldn't put this as a priority call? This was a woman going into labour, anything could happen or go wrong, they needed help and transport to the hospital.

"Make this a priority." Was Athena's response. They could wait a while, they might be able to wait an hour, but they needed help.

"Mum?" (Y/n) tilted her head back on the sofa and looked up at Athena. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what the dispatcher was saying. Why couldn't Maddie have been on shift today and answered their call? She could have talked them through this and got through to the team and sorted everything out. Maddie was calm during a crisis.

"Help will be here soon, honey."

They needed the team. They needed Evan and Bobby.

***

Tears traced down (Y/n)'s face almost as badly as the storm raging outside. Her hands clenched down on the back of the armchair and when a contraction tore through her stomach, she bit down on her lip so hard she drew blood. Her shaking arms pressed down on the chair and she leaned forward, burrowing her face into her arms.

Her back arched out and her legs began to shake from how tense they were straining to keep herself upright.

She felt Athena's hand rub up and down her back, but it wasn't the touch she wanted. It wasn't Evan. The thought made her tears fall faster and a lump formed in her throat. She shifted her weight from foot to foot and let out a scream when another pain tore her pelvis to shreds.

With a muffled scream, (Y/n) leaned over the back of the chair and scrambled around until she found her phone. She wasn't doing this alone. She wasn't having this baby without Evan. Someone was going to get the word through to him that he needed to come home. Now.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"I n- I need you to contact the 118." She gruffed, breathing through clenched teeth as her head started to go fuzzy.

"I'm sorry?"

"LAFD 118, get Buckley on the line- oow!" (Y/n) dug her nails so tightly into her phone she worried she was going to crack the screen. Her forehead pressed back down into the armchair while Athena moved her hands to hold her shoulders.

"Miss, what's your name and the nature of your emergency-"

"Get Buckley!" (Y/n) all but screamed before she held the phone to her left to try and get Athena to make the man understand.

She needed Evan. She knew dispatch could get on the radio frequency and contact the team because clearly they were out on a call. None of the team were answering their phones and (Y/n) was getting closer and closer to giving birth. If she had to do this without Evan she was never going to get over it. She wanted him here.

"Sir, you need to contact the 118 fire station and tell them that firefighter Buckley's wife is in labour. We called over an hour ago and we still haven't received any medical help. Tell Mr Buckley and Captain Nash the situation, now."

"Dispatch to Captain Nash?"

"Go ahead dispatch." Bobby gripped the radio on his shoulder but he could barely feel his fingers despite the thick gloves he was wearing. The cold from the storm was seeping into his bones by now and the rain had thoroughly soaked through his uniform to the point he felt like he was swimming.

"Is Buckley with you?"

A frown pulled on Bobby's face and he waved his hand over at Evan, shouting his name through the howling wind that was screaming at them all to go home.

"I have Buckley with me, what's the problem dispatch?" He wasn't sure why he needed his son in law here for whatever message they were about to receive. But something deep in his gut told him this wasn't going to be for anything good.

"We have Mr Buckley's wife on the line, she says she's in labour."

All the blood drained down to Evan's toes and his eyes locked with Bobby but neither of them could find words.

He shouldn't have come on shift this afternoon. He shouldn't have left (Y/n) at all this week to go to work, he should have stayed with her. He knew she hadn't seemed herself this morning when he dropped her off at Athena's. Thank God he took her there and didn't leave her home alone.

"Is she okay? Is she at the hospital?!" Evan shouted down the radio and leaned as close as he could to try and listen for the crackling response. The storm was creating a vivid distraction, he could barely see and now he could barely hear the dispatcher.

"We haven't managed to get a unit to her address yet-"

"Then don't. We're on our way."

"Oh God, mum…" (Y/n) lowered herself down to her knees and meshed her face into the back of the chair. Her fingers were about to dig through the top of the chair and her knees began to quake and cause friction against the carpet.

She barely managed to lift her head up to look to the side when she heard footsteps, but a sob bubbled up at the back of her throat when she looked over at Athena.

She was hurrying back into the living room with a bowl of hot water. There were towels, a few old blankets, gloves and scissors on the coffee table and the sight made (Y/n) want to be sick. She couldn't do this. She couldn't give birth here, at her parent's home, in the middle of a raging hurricane storm. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"Okay honey, I need to check how far along you are-"

"No, I c- I can't… hospital. We have t-to go," Her lips rolled together as she tilted her head back to look up at Athena with pleading eyes.

"Let me see how far dilated you are, then we can worry about the team tranferring you. This is just a precaution, okay honey?" Athena needed to be prepared. She had a gut feeling that (Y/n) had been in labour for a few hours now. The constant back pain all day and the twinges and pains she had been having which she could have mistook for general pains instead of the beginning of labour.

She might be too far dilated for anyone to move her once help arrived. The 118 were leaving their latest call and diverting straight over here which meant Evan knew what was happening. And he would be here soon for the birth of his son. But Athena needed to know if she had to step in or if they would have enough time to get her in the ambulance and down to the hospital.

Shifting to the right, (Y/n) let Athena grip her arms and carefully help her up to her feet. She held onto Athena's shoulders and tucked her chin down into her chest, wheezing through crackling breaths when another contraction hit.

Her hands gripped the arm of the sofa and she doubled over, arching her lower back out.

A strangled wheeze spluttered through her lips and she tried not to cry out while Athena laid a few blankets over the sofa.

When she sat down, (Y/n) slumped down as much as she could until her thighs were barely on the sofa and she felt like she was going to slide right down to the floor. Her hands pressed into the sofa to steady herself and she let her head tilt back into the cushion.

Her lips formed a broken smile and she huffed, feeling a laugh mixing in with her broken cry.

"You're s-supposed to be my- my birthing partner, not my midwife."

Athena's smile made her heart soften somewhat, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy and angry at the same time. This wasn't fair. She was supposed to go into labour at home with Evan right next to her. They were meant to ring Bobby and Athena, all meet at the hospital and she wanted Athena and Evan in the room with her.

But not like this. Athena wasn't supposed to be acting as midwife, delivering her baby during a storm with no help and no Evan in sight.

"And why can't I be both, at least until help arrives?" Athena patted (Y/n)'s knee, but when she turned around and grabbed a pair of gloves from the table, (Y/n) tensed up.

"Mum-"

"Honey, your dilated already, but it's okay. Buck will be right through that door in no time."

She grimaced and sank back on her heels when (Y/n) screamed, and not from the pain. Her hands moved to her stomach and she pressed down like she was trying to keep the baby right where he was and prevent him from moving.

She wasn't doing this without Evan. He had to be here, this was the part he was most excited about. Evan had been expecting to be with (Y/n) when she got the first pains and when her water broke. He thought he would be driving her to the hospital, not travelling through the rain to reach her in time.

Another scream broke past (Y/n)'s lips and she shrank back into the sofa when a horrible bang shot through the house.

The front door swung so far that the door handle crashed into the wall and created a dent in the plaster. Evan planted his hand down on the door to prevent it from swinging back at him and he barged inside, followed swiftly by his father in law.

"Baby?!"

"LAFD!" Bobby called out at the same time, his breathing ragged and a trace of a smile on his lips as the team followed him inside his home.

Evan shook his head from side to side and he dragged a hand over his eyes and nose, clearing away the sheen of water cascading down his face, blocking his vision.

"Evan- oow, Evan!"

Flinging himself around the corner, Evan skidded on the carpet and catapulted over to the sofa wedged in the corner of the room beside the fireplace. He practically jumped down on the sofa, bashing his shoulder into the back frame which sent a jolt running down to his fingertips.

"I- are we- I haven't missed it?!" Terror and dread flooded his voice as he shed his gloves so he could take (Y/n)'s hand in his.

"You're just in time. Where's Hen? She's too far gone to move her, this baby's coming now." Athena waved her hand towards the top of the stairs where Hen, Chimney and Eddie were following inside with medic bags and a gurney between them. They slammed the door shut, keeping out the raging storm that sent frozen chills throughout the air and had them all shivering at the temperature change.

"Thank fuck! Oh baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

When Evan leaned across and pressed his frozen lips to her temple, (Y/n) cried out and reeled back as his helmet smashed into the top of her head.

"Evan." She snapped, giving his helmet a rough shove and she dragged her eyes up and down his overalls. She could feel the rain seeping into her shirt and soaking through the blanket laid out on the sofa beneath them.

"Oh," A sheepish smile pulled at his lips and he wrenched up from the sofa, tossing his helmet down to the floor. The helmet had saved him from getting his head caved in outside from the storm.

His arms flung out behind him and he tore off his overcoat and unhooked his suspenders. In one fell swoop, he shoved down his overalls that were drenched through and through and stumbled out of them so he was in his cotton shirt and trousers. He kicked his uniform to the side, grateful when Bobby moved them out the way as he shed his own jacket and helmet now they were inside.

His trousers and shirt were damp, they were almost as drenched as his overalls, but he was at least a bit dryer like this and a lot more comfortable. Once he shed his second skin, Evan slumped back down on the sofa.

He curled one leg up beneath him and shuffled across until he could loop his left arm around the back of (Y/n)'s shoulders. Her head fell on his shoulder so he could feel each harsh, gasping breath she took fan against his neck. And he held his right hand out in front of her so (Y/n) could put his fist in her grip and cling tightly to him.

"Hen, she's crowning." Athena snapped off her gloves and moved to sit on (Y/n)'s other side on the sofa so Hen could take her place.

"I leave you for one day and look what you do… trying to have him without me, hm?" Evan muttered the words quietly against her temple and he ran his hand up and down her arm.

He felt (Y/n) try to laugh but she broke off into a groan when her stomach tightened. She shifted her weight from her heels to her toes to try and steady herself so she didn't slump forward, but all she wanted to do was crumple down to the floor and fold in on herself.

"I thought y-you wouldn't make it," (Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned further into Evan, pulling his hand up to her chest as she screamed.

"I know, I know baby but I'm here now. We're all here,"

"Really big push (Y/n), and the head will be born." Hen snapped on a pair of gloves, shed her jacket and helmet and grabbed one of the towels from the table. She laid it over her lap as she knelt down on the floor. She could feel Bobby hovering on her left near Evan while Chimney and Eddie hung back at the stairs. They didn't want to overpower (Y/n) and flood her with people when that would be the last thing she needed.

"Here we go," Evan murmured into her hair, giving her hand a squeeze, although he could barely feel his hand anymore from how tightly she was gripping him.

The moment Hen announced the head was out, (Y/n) opened her eyes as Evan leaned forward to take a look which in turn made (Y/n) lean over a little. She kept his hand held to her chest and moved her free hand to hold his thigh, steadying herself on the edge of the sofa.

"Small pushes, panting breaths, you're almost done now (Y/n)."

(Y/n) could see stars dancing across her eyes when that last push finally worked. Her head slumped against Evan's neck and she could feel him laughing into her hair as he let go of her hand to cup the back of her neck.

"That's my girl." He spoke against her temple, brushing his thumb up and down the side of her neck as he suddenly realised he was swaying them both back and forth.

"Buck, you wanna do the honours?" Hen held out a pair of scissors after she's clamped the cord and her cheesy smile made Evan laugh.

He carefully unwound his arms from (Y/n) and eased her back into Athena's embrace who held her tight and kissed the back of her head. He shuffled to the edge of the sofa and leaned over, trying to stop his hands from shaking when he leaned down to cut the cord.

"Here's your beautiful boy." Hen praised, lifting up the wriggling newborn who had no trouble taking his first breath and using it to scream and announce his presence.

(Y/n) could feel herself shaking against Athena when her baby boy was delicately laid on her chest. She tightened the towel around him and tried to hold him as carefully as she could. His tiny fist wormed beneath the collar of her shirt and rested on her chest while his cheek pressed down beneath her shoulder.

Her eyes sparkled when Evan's hand curled on top of her own, cradling the back of their son's head while he perched his chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her neck and glued his chest up into her shoulder, smiling down at the little boy that brought tears to his eyes.

"Do we have a name?" Athena spoke quietly, rubbing her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm.

When she looked up, she smiled at Bobby who sat down on the arm of the sofa just behind Evan. He leaned over for a first look at his grandson, the person he had been waiting months to meet. And the sight had him smiling from ear to ear.

"Yeah, uh… Bobby."

"What?" Reaching out, Bobby planted his hand on Evan's shoulder but he couldn't tear his eyes away from his grandson to look at his son in law and see what he wanted. Did he want Bobby to pick a name? Was he asking him something and he just couldn't concentrate?

"No," A wide grin broke out on Evan's face as he lifted his chin from (Y/n)'s shoulder to look behind him at his captain. "That's his name, Bobby. After you."

Tilting her head to the right, (Y/n) leaned her temple against Evan's cheek and tiredly smiled up at her dad. They had already agreed as soon as they thought about boy names that their boy would be named after Bobby. He was one of the most important people in (Y/n)'s life, he was her dad and they had been through so much together.

And he was more than just a Captain to Evan. He had become a father figure to him, he looked out for him and took him under his wing. Bobby loved and cared for Evan better than his own parents did, and that was the kind of parent Evan wanted to be to his boy.

"You… you're naming him after me?"

(Y/n) nodded and smiled back down at her little baby as she tucked herself more into Evan's side. She could see her dad grinning through his tears. He was happy. He was proud.

"Baby Bobby."

[ckret2]

Chapter 39 of human Bill Cipher is SURE he's about to escape being the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Ford's confronted with the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he's a little bit too obsessed with Bill.

And meanwhile, Bill has found a way to reach his loyal cultists... if he can find somebody willing to help him make contact.

He thinks Ford is the perfect target.

Maybe, just maybe, the obsession goes both ways.

(warning for an incident of self-harm via burning, and depersonalization and/or dysphoria (depending on how you interpret it) re: Bill feeling even worse about his body than usual.)

####

Soos, Stan, and Ford had stayed up half the night trying to generate enough NowUSeeitNowUDontium to prevent it from vanishing the moment one of them lost (or gained) focus. They'd eventually given up and stayed the night in Northwest Manor. Soos had texted Melody around midnight, and she'd immediately replied (which alarmed Ford, but Soos assured him she was used to those hours) and agreed, with some trepidation, to spend the night by herself in the shack so that the kids wouldn't be alone all night with Bill. She'd texted a half hour later to report that the bathroom was a disaster, but the kids had reassured her it was just some werewolf thing, so, not a big deal.

Ford had thought getting to spend a night without Bill under the same roof would be a relief. Instead, he found his sleep was even worse. He kept worrying about what Bill might get up to so far away and out of sight, where Ford couldn't do anything to stop him. Surely, by nighttime, Bill had to have noticed that the only humans he'd seen all day were the kids? Would he consider Melody any kind of threat, no veteran to combating Gravity Falls' weirdness?

It figured that the dream demon would find a way to disrupt Ford's sleep when he wasn't even there.

####

Ford had given up on sleep around two in the morning and gone wandering until he stumbled across a den with walls covered in bookcases, massive windows overlooking the forest below, and a pair of richly upholstered armchairs turned to gaze out the windows. He drifted between the chairs to one of the windows. It was the kind of personal library he'd dreamed of accepting esteemed guests in, back when he'd fantasized about one day being rich and famous. He suspected the Northwests had never read a book in this room.

Ford had been staring out at the still night and the dark pines for several minutes when he heard the creak of a door and soft footsteps behind him. He whirled around, raising a weapon. "Back, you spectral fiend!"

"Whoa! Easy, Sixer!" Stan held up a hand defensively. "It's just me!" He lowered his hand. "Why are you holding up a dinner plate?"

"Er—sorry." Ford sheepishly tucked the silver dish under his arm again. "I'm sure I saw a ghost earlier. I thought it prudent to arm myself."

Stan muttered, "This place sure is creepy enough for it."

"Mm. It's built on more than its fair share of bones." Ford returned to gazing out the window, hands clasped behind his back. "I'm sorry today was a failure. When I'm staring right at an experiment on which the fate of the entire universe depends, it's hard not to think about it."

"Eh, I wasn't doing too hot either," Stan admitted, joining Ford at the window. "There's only so many times you can hear Soos whisper 'Think about the miniature particle accelerator' in your ears on a loop before you zone out and start thinking about fishing season."

Ford huffed. "Maybe we should have switched places."

"Yeah, probably. I retired from thinking about science after I got your dumb portal running, and once you get your head stuck on something you can't stop thinking about it."

Ford laughed wryly. "Unfortunately accurate."

There was a moment of silence; and then Stan said cautiously, "Speaking of you getting your head stuck on something..."

Ford didn't like that tone. "Hm?"

"I was, uh... doing some light reading..." He held up Ford's journal.

A jolt of anger and fear shot through Ford. "Give me—" He snatched the journal back.

It wasn't until it was in his hands that he registered the absurdity of his own action; for the past year, he'd given Stan free access to Journal 5. He'd used it to document their travels and discoveries as a reference for them both; he'd even asked Stan to contribute a couple of entries. Based on a prior precedent of seven months, Stan had every right to look at Journal 5. Revoking that access now was... Well, it didn't look good.

Stan didn't immediately say anything. Ford supposed his own actions said enough. He tucked the journal under his arm with the silver dish.

Stan cleared his throat. "I think we're a little past the 'superhero nemesis' thing."

"It's not a problem," Ford said tersely.

"Not a prob—? Ford, you're letting him consume your life."

"He's consumed all our lives. The kids haven't been able to invite anyone over, Melody all but runs to her car after work, you ended up in a showdown with fae nobility—"

"It was just the tooth fairy!"

"Do you know how important a fairy has to be to claim dominion over all teeth?"

"Forget about the fairy!" Stan waved off the whole fairy topic with one hand. "Look, I'm not the one who's dedicated half a journal to talking about him!"

"You don't keep a journal, Stanley—"

"That's not the point!"

"—I'm just saying, if you did keep a journal, I think he'd have come up on more than a few pages—"

"But like this?" Stan gestured toward Ford's journal. "This is turning into an obsession. And not one of your normal obsessions."

The back of Ford's neck heated up. He wanted to argue that he had to obsess over Bill if he hoped to find a way to kill him—but Stan already knew that Ford had passed off that project to Fiddleford weeks ago. "How can I be 'obsessed' with somebody I barely even see? I'm avoiding Bill like my life depends on it! I talk to him less than Mrs. Ramirez does!"

"And you're using avoiding him as an excuse to obsess over him even more in private!" Stan gestured again, angrily, at Ford's journal. (Ford defensively tucked it further under his arm.) "You're acting like a stalker, Sixer. Not that I care about him, but, I'm starting to worry about your head."

"A st—?! I'm a scientist, he's a scientific curiosity! I'm documenting him! I document plenty of things!"

"Not like this, you don't."

"There's a lot to document!"

"Including spending a whole page trying to figure out—how to draw his—?!" Stan gestured furiously toward his boxers.

Ford pointed at him severely. "You were just as curious as I was to find out how a giant eyeball and a sentient triangle make that work, don't pretend you weren't."

Stan grimaced. "Okay, fine, I'll give you that one. But writing a full entry about his posture?"

"He's not only an alien being in a human body but a two-dimensional creature in a three-dimensional body, how he moves and gestures could tell us about how an utterly unfamiliar species perceived space! Nearly all his gestures adhere to an invisible coronal plane, that betrays worlds of information about his original anatomy. Do you know that elbow thing he does when he walks—"

"Ford. You're using your great-niece to get drawings of his childhood bedroom."

Ford raised a finger. "That's—" Ford lowered his finger. Ford sat in a nearby armchair, put his chin in his hands, and stared into space. "What am I doing."

Stan patted his shoulder.

Ford slid his journal and the dish out from under his arm and settled them in his lap. He stared at the cover, then thumbed through the pages. It was obvious when they'd returned to Gravity Falls; the drawings of Atlanteans, were-rats, shorelines, and boats immediately gave way to page after page of staring slit-pupiled eyes.

"It's just... Bill is an ancient being, many times older than our universe, and the last surviving specimen of his own bizarre species. As both an anomaly and a source of esoteric knowledge, he's an invaluable subject of study. He's going to die soon, and he should die, but... between now and then, I don't want to pass up the last ever opportunity to study him."

Stan sank down into the chair opposite Ford. "You're listening to yourself, right?" He didn't sound angry anymore, just worried. "This is a guy who tried to kill us. He isn't a 'specimen' you can add to your collection of weird stuff, you know that, right?"

"I know, I know." That was exactly why it was so important—why it seemed so important—to capture Bill in words and pictures before it was too late. (It was funny, Ford thought, how Stan's very first conversation with Bill had been a murder, and yet he was the one who talked about Bill like he was just some guy; while Ford had spent so many years obsessively trying to find out who Bill was that he'd almost forgotten he was a person instead of a terrible idea.)

"When execution day comes and you think you haven't dug up enough of his history, what'll you do? Give him a stay of execution until he's dictated his memoirs to you?"

"No," Ford said immediately. "No, of course not. I'm just taking advantage of the opportunity to learn what I can, while I can. It's no different from your 'shopping trip' at the mall—"

"Hey!" Stan pointed a finger at Ford. "Watch it! That was strictly business! It's not like I'm attached to the guy—"

"I didn't mean anything by it! I just meant—as long as we're stuck with Bill, make him useful, and—and to heck with him after that. Right?" Like Stan had said about the scratch cards: why throw away free money just because of the source? "He'd do the same to us."

Stan hesitated. "And you're sure that when the time comes, you'll be ready to pull the trigger?"

"I know I will. It won't be the first time. I'm just glad that this time I'll be able to aim at his own head."

"Hm." Stan didn't look convinced.

Ford sighed. "But, if I think I'll waver—I'll hand you the gun."

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes, yes, of course. I promise."

But he knew he didn't need to.

####

Soos drove the tired gang home just past dawn, early enough for him to open the Mystery Shack on schedule.

"Soon as we get home, I'm going back to sleep," Stan muttered crankily. Ford—eyes shut, leaning against the window—nodded in agreement. Stan yawned, "And there'd better not be any nasty surprises at the shack."

####

Bill sat sleeping in his attic window seat, knees to his chest, leaning against the window, ear pressed to the glass.

Outside, Stan wailed, "My car!"

Bill's eyes snapped open. He smiled.

He ran to the kids' room, knocked on the door—"Hey, the bigger Pines are back!"—and bolted for the stairs.

####

Soos got the door open at the exact same time Bill stumbled off the stairs and collided with the living room doorframe. Bill grabbed the doorframe just long enough to steady himself, and then bounded over to the door, shoved Soos and Ford aside, and leaned out onto the porch. "HIYA, STAN!"

Stan whipped around to face Bill. "YOU!" He gestured furiously at the wizard graffiti on his car. "WHAT did you DO to my CAR!"

"Do you like it?"

Stan let out an inarticulate scream of rage.

"Oh, you love it!"

"You massacred it! I've had this car forty-five years! I've done things in this car I can't say! And it's never, never been so—so—violated!"

Grinning ear to ear, Bill said, "What do you think of the girl wizard?"

"The what?!" Stan circled the car. He screamed again.

"Uh-huh?"

"Why does she have a beard!"

"Go on," Bill said gleefully, "tell me what you think! I want the full review!"

"This," Stan said, "is the most ugly, hideous, terrible—"

Bill glanced back at a sound on the stairs. "Oh, hey Mabel! Get over here!" He gestured proudly as Mabel joined him in the doorway. "And here's the artistic mastermind herself!"

Stan choked on his words. "—b... beautiful, stunning, museum-worthy work of art I've ever seen."

Mabel beamed. "It's not finished yet, we ran out of some colors! I was going to add a dragon on the hood!"

Stan's face went white. "No no, it's... perfect the way it is. Don't—don't change a thing."

"Really? You're sure? I don't mind!"

"Really." Looking slightly nauseous, Stan said, "I love it just like this, pumpkin."

Mabel squealed and ran outside to give him a big hug.

Bill was fighting back silent laughter so hard he almost fell down.

####

"...And I still haven't found any sign of the Nightwigglers," Dipper said, sighing dejectedly and dropping his journal on the counter next to the cash register. "So, I dunno, maybe I should give up on this one and move on."

Wendy was sitting back with her feet kicked up on the counter, but she straightened a bit to look at Dipper's journal. She skimmed the news article he'd paperclipped to one page. "Oh, I heard about this," she said. "The cops talked to me about the first burglary. I was in the thrift shop that day."

"Oh, yeah?" Dipper pointed at the picture next to the article. "Did you see anything like this?"

Wendy's eyes widened. "No—but I think one of my brothers did."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, he was talking about it a couple nights ago. He said it was like an armless white thing wearing pants that went up to its face. We all thought he got spooked by a deer butt or something and made up the whole story. Then dad said we should drop it and told us we should stay in at night."

"That's when they come out! At night!" Dipper laughed excitedly. "Do you think your dad knows something?"

"Pfff, not if he can help it." Wendy pulled her feet off the counter and checked the clock. "I could show you the start of the trail my brother was on. It's like ten minutes by bike and the next big tour bus isn't getting here for half an hour, wanna sneak out?"

"Are you serious?! Of course!"

"Just promise you won't tell Gus if we find something. We've been making fun of him for days and I don't want to  admit he was right." Wendy laughed. "Let me grab somebody to cover."

"I'll get my bike!" Dipper was already headed out the door. "I've been looking for a lead for days! I dug through half the dumpsters in town searching for their nests..." The door swung shut behind him.

Wendy ducked into the living room. "Hey Goldie."

"Yello?" He was sitting cross legged on the couch watching TV.

"I've gotta do something with Dipper, do you mind covering for a little bit? Just twenty, thirty minutes."

His gaze flickered to the TV, then back to Wendy's face. "Sure! Anything for you, cool girl."

Wendy had a brief, eerie sense of déjà vu. She shook it off. "I'm not interrupting anything good, am I?" She nodded at the TV.

"Naaah, it's one of those terrible specials about pyramid conspiracies." He shook a cider can, "I'm taking a sip every time they mention Fishmasons or 'ancient dinosaur-worshiping civilization.'"

"Dude. You'll be wasted before the first commercial break."

"Really, you're saving me from myself." He set the can on the TV and followed Wendy into the gift shop. (As he did, Bill checked to see if he had anything on under his hoodie. No? The Pines didn't want him to be seen in public in his hoodie; they thought it would make him "too obvious." He rolled up the sleeves to hide some of the brick pattern and surreptitiously tucked the hood and the bow tie drawstrings into the collar.)

As she headed out the door, Wendy repeated, "Just twenty minutes! Thirty tops. I'll get back before the next tour bus, promise."

"No problem!" He waved her off.

"I owe you one!"

Bill made a note of that.

He looked around the gift shop—any readily-obvious mischief he could get up to? He grabbed an 8-ball cane and took it to the counter. And then he took the stool behind the register, propped his chin in his hand, gazed toward the living room, and resumed watching TV through the wall and backwards. He didn't miss hearing the conspiracy talk—he was sure it was actively making him stupider—but credit where credit was due; they made those CGI pyramid models really hot.

A cutaway of one pyramid showed its internal tunnels and chambers. Bill bit his lower lip. Oh yeah. That's what he came here for.

Several minutes went by. The door opened and a lone tourist crept in, a middle-aged woman with a sun-damaged tan. Bill straightened up and switched his eye patch over to hide his bleeding eye. "Heya! Next tour's in..." He checked the clock, how long until the next bus? "About fifteen minutes."

The woman nodded and quietly started circling the gift shop.

Bill glanced toward the living room, decided he'd better not start damaging his other eye too, mentally cursed the tourist, and pulled out one of Wendy's magazines to read. "Let me know if you need anything."

The tourist spent several minutes making a slow circuit of the room, and then crept up to the cash register. Bill looked up with a smile, didn't see any souvenirs in her hands, and asked, "Can I help you?"

Hesitantly, the woman said, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

Bill's eye flew wide open, his heart leaped into his throat, and his breath hitched. His gaze roved over her exposed skin until he spied a tattoo on her right arm: four triangles stacked atop each other, starting with an equilateral and each getting shorter and more obtuse as they descended, until they'd reduced completely and a single horizontal line underlined all four triangles. This wasn't quite the happiest he'd ever been to see the symbol of a devastatingly self-destructive high-control cult, but it was close. "Oh! Oh, this is—" He rubbed his temples, squeezing his eye shut. "I know this. I rhymed 'red' with 'pyramid.' Why do I give everyone a different code. 'But rises gold over the pyramid'—something like that, right?" Bill gave the woman a pleading look. "I'm close enough that you can tell I know what you're talking about!"

A look of relief washed over her face. "You know him." Voice low, she asked, "Is it safe to talk?"

Knew him? He was him. But he couldn't claim that without proving it—what would convince her?—telling her something that only he knew?—great, but what? Her face was vaguely familiar—he thought he might've given her a visionary dream once—but he had so many little worshipers and they were so unimportant, most of them blurred together.

So all he could do was say, "It's not safe. Everyone here is an enemy."

She nodded sharply. "Where can we meet?"

Bill paused. "We can't. I'm... trapped."

Her brows creased with worry. "They're keeping you prisoner?"

"Afraid so."

"I could get the police—"

"Everyone," Bill repeated, "is an enemy."

She paused, processing that. Bill's gaze flickered to the clock. Wendy said twenty minutes, thirty tops. She'd been gone twenty-two minutes. "Someone's coming any minute."

"Right." The cultist grabbed Wendy's magazine, tore a corner off a page, and grabbed a pen.

"How did you find me?" Bill asked. Of all the tourist traps in all the tiny towns in all the world, how had she come in hereand walked right up to him? 

"We were told a devotee was here," she said. "Someone sent the address and phone number to the Bahamian art studio."

Bill's mind spun. How? Who the heck would know to do that? The only person who knew he was here who'd come anywhere close to any of Bill's other worshipers was...

Ford? No. Did he?

The cultist shoved the paper in his hand and turned to leave.

Bill grabbed her arm. "Stay out of Gravity Falls," he commanded. "But stay close. Don't go back to Death Valley." Between the sun damage and the tattoo, she had to be one of his Death Valley girls. She looked like their usual prey: disaffected middle class white woman, probably had a dead end job and a mediocre husband and a useless degree from a liberal arts college. Maybe being able to guess where she came from would impress her.

It did. She stopped and turned back and looked at him in amazement—and then looked at him, staring hard at his eye. "You're... hosting him, aren't you?" Her voice fell to a whisper. "No. Are you...?"

"You got me." He smiled wryly—behold him, electric god bound in flesh, how low he's fallen, but at least he still has his good humor, doesn't he? "I always said you had great intuition." (It was a safe bet. He usually told the ladies that they had great intuition. Most of them ate that up, and the ones that didn't were often a little too savvy to sucker.)

It worked. She inhaled sharply. "You are," she breathed. "I knew you'd be a woman. Oh, Mary's a fool." She said this like she'd just won some years-old argument Bill had missed.

Mary, as in Mary-whom-Bill-had-put-in-charge-of-the-Death-Valley-compound Mary? Ha. She was getting on in years; maybe Bill could start a schism, that sounded fun. He opened his mouth to say something about Mary having great leadership but waning clarity of vision—

—when the cultist leaned across the counter, grabbed his collar, and pulled him into a kiss.

Okay. All right. She was one of those cultists. Got it. Got it got it got it. Wow. Definitely a "mediocre husband" convert, those were easy to seduce away with a little warmth and affection—nothing obvious, but get them infatuated with the idea of an unattainable incorporeal ideal lover and they'd chase him to the ends of the earth. Maybe a lesbian in denial that Bill had decided to push further into denial, if her assumption about Bill's gender was anything to go by. He tried to remember what he'd told this one.

He leaned into the kiss.

He'd done this before—in dreams, in puppets—he didn't prefer humans, but he could handle them well enough and earthlings had such pretty eyes. And this body he was stuck in made such insistent demands; a surge of human hormones washed over his brain so powerfully it made him dizzy. She broke the kiss to murmur, "Cipher, my lord—" and he took the opportunity to kiss her eyelid and lie, "I knew if anyone could find me, it would be you." He wished he remembered her name. She tugged his face back down to her lips. She was so eager. Cipher, my lord. Oh, it felt good to be revered again—

The door opened. "Um?"

If Bill had had one ounce of his power, he would have killed Wendy on the spot.

Instead, he seized his cultist's hands, ripped them off his hoodie, and shoved her away. "Whoa, lady! What do you think this is, a kissing booth?!" He laughed angrily. "We don't offer that kind of service here! Either get out, or—or buy a souvenir already!" He pointed at Wendy. "From her. Not from me."

Shocked, the cultist turned toward where Bill was pointing; and then turned back, understanding in her eyes.

Wendy raised her hands defensively, grimacing. "Yeah, no, I'm not serving you either. Just... get outta here."

The cultist met Bill's gaze for just a moment, then walked quickly out the door without a word.

Bill shouted after her, "And do not come back!" and quietly mourned as, for the second time in as many weeks, he had to watch helplessly as he sent away his only hope of getting any action/rescue.

"I am so, so sorry," Wendy said. "I leave for like ten minutes and you get one of the nightmare customers."

How Bill loved nightmares. "Twenty-five minutes, but who's counting."

"Psh, shut up." Wendy reclaimed her post behind the counter. "I think she's been here before, she looks kinda familiar. You okay?"

Bill hoped nobody else in town would recognize her. "I think I'll live after some mouthwash. Terrible breath." He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Hey, remember when you said you owe me one? You really owe me."

####

All his cultist had written for him was a phone number. Bill slid his stolen journal from its window hiding spot and copied the number down in two-tone dots and dashes. Plaintext transcriptions were usually tricky, given the vast difference between the language Bill wrote in and the languages humans used—but numbers, at least, were easy. Everyone had numbers.

And then he stared at the scrap of paper, reading the numbers over and over, until he was sure he'd memorized them, just in case he ever lost the journal.

And then he ate the paper.

And then he stacked the two cushions of his makeshift bed on top of each other, planted his face in them, and screamed.

Cipher, my lord. It had felt so, so, so good to be revered again.

His organs twisted with touch-hunger and loneliness.

####

Out in the Bahamas, along the southwest edge of the Bermuda Triangle, were two nut job hermits from Miami. Bill had convinced them that the only way they could purge their sins and purify their souls was by sculpting and selling golden avatars of God into which they could pour their guilt, and they had to keep doing it until they no longer felt guilty (and they would never not feel guilty; they needed so much therapy that Bill had ensured they'd never get). And then he'd convinced them that God's true face was an Eye of Providence in a top hat and bow tie.

Over the years he'd lost a little control over those two—in their desperation to be free of sin, they'd also started sculpting avatars to as many gods as they could find and selling them en masse to afford more art supplies—but hey, as long as his face was still mixed in with the rest, fine. Honestly, he was surprised those nuts weren't dead yet.

Somebody in this house had sent his location to them. And in a moment of what Bill imagined was stunning mental clarity, they had passed on that information to the single least dysfunctional pocket of Bill's top cult in the continental United States. Maybe when Bill was back at full power, he'd drop by the hermits' dreams to tell them they'd finally achieved absolution and could rest. Their decades of out-of-control scrupulosity would probably prevent them from believing him, but hey, he could say he'd tried. He washed his hands of all responsibility over them and their mental illnesses that he'd knowingly deliberately exacerbated for his own benefit. Not his problem.

But the question he came back to, over and over, was who had talked to them.

Bill needed to reach his Death Valley cultist. He needed a phone. Every phone in this house was well-guarded. No one would let him touch one... except, perhaps, whoever had sent the SOS on his behalf.

The only person who made sense was Stanford. Bill didn't think he'd ever told Ford about the nutty sculptors; but in the eighties he had given him the mailing addresses of some niche art dealers who would sell tapestries and statues of an obscure one-eyed god to collectors who could appreciate what they were looking at. Maybe Ford had gotten back in contact with them? Maybe he'd told them where Bill was, and they'd passed the information to the Bahamas?

Maybe Ford's feelings weren't quite so cold toward Bill as he'd been pretending.

Bill liked that idea a lot.

Maybe Bill's birthday gift had swung Ford back around to the side of reason—reminded him just how good he'd had it under a muse and mentor willing to teach him anything his nerdy little heart desired. Or maybe he'd always wanted to come back, and had just needed Bill to say it first.

He probably only pretended he hated Bill because they were surrounded by enemies—everyone in the house thought Ford was looking for a way to destroy Bill, what would happen if they knew the truth?

But the truth was there. Bill could almost seize it in his hands. All those moments where they almost talked like they were friends again, before Ford had to stop himself and leave. That one beautiful little word: jealous. And of course, there was the whole thing with the glass pyramid and the "Mysteries" that Ford had passed on—

—to Mabel.

There was another possibility.

As much as Bill would love if it was Ford, Mabel was the only person in the house who acted like she actually wanted Bill alive. Whatever "Mysteries" Ford was teaching her had something to do with Bill, the pyramid made that obvious. Maybe his lessons included the contact information of everyone else Ford knew who knew Bill? Maybe she'd taken it upon herself to call for help?

It was thin. And it was still dependent upon Ford harboring a secret loyalty to Bill that he was passing on to his great-niece. But that was where things stood: Ford was the only person in the house who definitely knew how to reach Bill's followers, but Mabel was the only person in the house who definitely might want to.

And he had to make completely sure of which one of them it was before he asked for a favor.

####

Ford had missed dinner again.

Fiddleford had sent Ford home with a pile of math. All the calculations he'd done to get the miniature particle accelerator to produce Dontium. By his reckoning, that there jar should've filled with Dontium faster than greased lightning; he just plumb can't understand why it trickled in like cold molasses. (His words.) He'd asked Ford to check his work, see if he'd missed something.

Ford was more than happy to help. It was a much-needed intellectual challenge that didn't involve Bill's underhanded birthday gift. Something that would let him feel like he was making progress. And it was comfortingly familiar. He and Fiddleford had spent weeks checking and re-checking each other's math in the lead up to the portal test, before they knew what a horror they were building.

As soon as Ford had gotten home, he'd put Fiddleford's papers in his underground study before going back to bed. Bill had already admitted he could glimpse the future, although Ford wasn't sure how far; and Ford was growing convinced that Bill's ability to perceive "higher dimensions" let him see through walls like they weren't there. He'd begun keeping Journal 5 and other sensitive materials down in his study at all times, hoping that the distance and layers of dirt and rock would keep Bill from peering in.

And when he'd dragged himself out of bed around noon—an embarrassingly late hour to get up, but he had been awake most of the night—he'd grabbed a quick breakfast/lunch, brewed a pot of coffee to take with him, and gone below to get to work.

He'd only worked seven or eight hours with a couple of reluctant breaks in the middle before his head began pounding too hard for him to ignore. He'd been neglecting his exercise regimen the past few weeks, and his back and neck were letting him know. In his thirties, he'd been able to work fourteen hours days and still want to keep going—and that was even before he'd handed his body over to Bill so he could keep working around the clock. He wasn't as young as he used to be.

He dragged himself upstairs after sunset, when the last ambient light from the sky still faintly glowed through the windows. He could make something quick and simple for dinner, go to bed early, and get up early to continue working. He pushed through the door to the dark living room—

"Hello!"

"Gah!" Ford jumped. "You. What are you doing here?"

Bill was leaning next to the door, a dim silhouette with his elbow on the wall and cheek in his hand. Even in the dark, Ford was sure he could see Bill's wicked grin at his reaction. "I happen to live here."

Ford let out an irritated huff. "Whatever you're up to, I don't have time to deal with it. Find someone else to bother." He pushed past Bill and headed toward the kitchen.

It would have been too much to expect Bill not to follow him, wouldn't it? "Aw, c'mon, don't be like that! Would it kill you to act like you're happy to see me?"

"Probably."

Bill's laugh made Ford's shoulders raise up around his ears. Maybe that was the source of his neck pain.

Bill shadowed him into the kitchen and leaned on the table, watching while Ford rummaged through the fridge. "But seriously, Sixer—who are you trying to impress by giving me the cold shoulder? I'm the only one here. You could afford to treat me like a person for two minutes." When Ford slammed the fridge door, Bill smacked it with the tip of an 8-ball cane. "Hey, have my food privileges been revoked? Give me a turn."

How long had Bill had a weapon? Ford snatched the cane from him, but opened the fridge and left it. "I don't consider you a person. I consider you an incalculably destructive force of pure, brutal chaos." He cracked three eggs in a skillet and opened a cabinet for one of the stove knobs they kept stored where Bill couldn't reach them.

"Flattering!" Bill started pulling out his usual nauseating array of condiments: today was sauerkraut, maraschino cherries, mustard, ranch dressing, and barbecue sauce. (Why did he eat like that? Did his species usually subsist on a mostly liquid diet? Was it the flavors—?) "Hey, make me mac 'n' cheese, wouldja?"

"No."

"Fine. Leave the burner on when you're done, I'll make it myself."

"You're not allowed to use the stove."

"Then how about I sit here drinking mustard while you enjoy a hot meal." Bill waved three eggs at Ford. "At least make me eggs too. Zero extra effort on your part. I'll even crack them for you if you want."

Ford gave Bill a dark look; but he supposed, as one of the people who had agreed that Bill wasn't allowed to cook, he was in no position to complain about Bill begging him to cook on his behalf. He snatched the eggs out of Bill's hand. "How do you want them."

"I haven't eaten enough chicken eggs to have a preference. Whatever you'll complain least about doing."

Poorly scrambled eggs it was. Ford shut the fridge and returned to the stove.

Bill sat on the table and crossed his legs in lotus position while he waited. "But really, what do you get out of pretending you can't stand me! We both know it's an act."

Ford gave him a tired, sour look. "Even for you, you sound delusional."

"I know you don't really hate me."

"I could write an entire dissertation and earn another Ph.D. on the topic of how much I hate you."

Ford hated how excited Bill looked by that. "Would you?"

"No! Why would I waste that much time thinking about you?"

"It seems to me like you're already doing that."

The hair on the back of Ford's neck prickled. Surely Bill just meant Ford's research into how to kill him; but his mind flashed to the miniature grimoire he'd spent all his time poring over—the blueprints of Bill's childhood home—the face he'd absent-mindedly drawn in his journal in the middle of the night and quickly scribbled out. Could Bill still see through that face? Had Ford remembered to blind Bill's eye on the blueprints? What about the eyes drawn in his human faces? Did Bill know about Ford's other studies? What did it matter—nothing Ford was doing was wrong. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Bill's smile slowly widened. "Sure you don't. You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. You might as well lean into it."

You're using avoiding him as an excuse to obsess over him even more in private. "I am not..." Wasn't he? You're acting like a stalker, Sixer.

"Oh, Fordsy, come on." Bill uncrossed his legs, slid off the table, and was across the room faster than Ford had expected. Ford instinctively took a step back and bumped into the oven; Bill reached past him to lean a hand against the edge of the stove, inches from touching him. "You're not hiding it half as well as you think you are. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" He smirked up at Ford, exposed eye wide and eager, utterly fascinated with him. "And bringing Mabel in on it? I'll have to admit, that surprised me. Can't say I disapprove, though."

Ford couldn't tell if the heat on the back of his neck was from Bill's accusations or the stove. "I beg your pardon?" What was he talking about—their conversation in Portland? The blueprints of Bill's home? (Using his great-niece to spy on Bill, lord, what was Ford doing?)

"Quit messing around! The Mysteries, Stanford. You think I don't know I'm the star of that show?" He poked the center of Ford's chest, "There's no way you joined a cult, you're not enough of a team player! What'd you do? Invent your own cult of one? Mixed a little of what I taught you, a little of whatever you learned out in the multiverse? I know you were asking around about me." Bill chuckled. "You want to keep your little rituals private, fine—I think it's cute, really—just tell me one thing I've been dying to know: how much have you told the kid?"

Ford stared at Bill.

Then he laughed in his face. "You really bought that?"

Bill's smile immediately vanished. "What?"

Ford shoved Bill's hands away. "There are no 'Mysteries.' It was a joke."

Bill stepped back, staring at Ford, brows furrowed. "A...? No," he said. "She's got that glass pyramid—"

"She wanted it because it was pretty," Ford said. "I gave her one since I was throwing them all out."

"That's the stupidest story I've ever heard. Then why would she have brought up the Mysteries!"

"Because," Ford said, "I told her, if you asked about the pyramid, she should make up something to confuse you."

Bill's mouth was open, but no words came out. His face had rapidly turned red. Several emotions flashed across his face in quick succession, from shock to confusion to humiliation to a rage so deep it almost looked like disgust. For a moment, from how Bill's fingers were curling like claws, Ford was sure Bill was about to attack him.

But then he clenched his jaw, backed off, leaned on the table, jammed his fists down against the tabletop, and glared at the floor.

Ford turned back to the stove, grinning to himself. Some of the eggs had burned slightly. Those were Bill's now. "What's the matter? Did you forget that humans can lie?"

Bill didn't reply.

"I'm surprised you didn't expect it. I seem to remember we got you with an impressive whopper last year—"

"Shut up."

"Now you don't want to talk?"

"Now you do?"

Good point; he didn't. If he'd finally rendered Bill speechless, he should enjoy it while he could.

He'd have to thank Mabel later for inventing the Mysteries. Sometimes that girl could be genius.

Ford turned off the burner, put the stove knob away, and dumped the eggs onto two plates. He didn't even bother to keep track of which plate had the burned eggs.

He shot a quick, exasperated look at Bill—he'd sat on top of the table again—and dropped a plate next to him. "Here." He grabbed a bag of bread and looked around for the toaster.

Behind him, voice trembling but low and dangerous, Bill said, "Don't look at me like that."

Ford glanced back warily. "Like what?"

Bill violently shoved off the table. There was an awful squeal of sliding furniture. Before Ford could react, Bill was in his face, grabbing him by his turtleneck, dragging him in, forcing him to look up at Bill.

Ford's peripheral vision was filled with gold. They were so close their noses nearly touched.

"Like you don't remember who I am!" Bill stared down with wide-eyed seething rage. "Your muse!" His voice cracked, "Your god!"

Ford stared up at Bill, speechless.

Then he looked down.

Bill was standing on a chair to make himself taller than Ford.

Ford ripped Bill's hands off his sweater. "You were never, ever my god."

Bill stumbled off the chair, catching himself hard on the edge of the table to keep from falling completely. "That's not true!" He heaved himself back onto his feet with a wince. "You worshiped me—"

"I admired you!" Ford jabbed a finger at Bill's chest. "I respected you! I—I even idolized you, but I never worshiped you!"

Bill jabbed a finger back, "You're splitting hairs! You practically turned your study into a temple to me—tapestries, rugs, statues—"

"Because you said it would help me reach you!"

"And it did! That's what shrines are for, genius!"

"It wasn't a shrine! Not to me."

"You're kidding me! All the money you dropped on that gold-plated statue and you expect me to believe that wasn't an act of worship—"

"Do not. Remind me. How much. That stupid statue cost."

"If you didn't build a shrine for worship then what in the world did you build it for!"

"Friendship!" Ford took a shaky breath in. "I thought... I honestly thought you—you—were my best friend." The air in the room trembled with heat. They were standing too close to each other. Ford refused to be the one to back up.

"I was," Bill said. "I still could be if you'd stop being a moron."

Ford laughed in disbelief. "Which is it, were you my god or my friend?!"

"They're not mutually exclusive—!"

"You can't keep your story straight for THIRTY SECONDS!"

"Don't you call me a LIAR, after EVERYTHING I taught you—!"

"In all the years I've known you I don't think you've told me the truth ONCE—!"

Stan flipped on the lights.

They froze and stared at him. They had their hands around each other's throats. Bill had a foot planted on Ford's stomach like he was trying to get a foothold to climb him. They were both covered in egg.

Stan said, "Could you do this in the morning?"

Ford said, "Sure."

Bill said, "He started it."

"I st—?! You started all of this thirty years ago—"

"Guys," Stan said tiredly.

With some effort, Ford unpeeled his hands from Bill's neck.

To his surprise, Bill voluntarily let go as well. Ford snatched up what was left of his plate of eggs, took the loaf of bread—he had lighters, he could toast it downstairs—and left the kitchen, turning the light off as he went.

Stan was waiting out in the entryway. "Heading to bed?"

"No." Ford shoveled a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Going to be up late." He was too angry to sleep. He could eat, take a painkiller for his headache, and keep working.

"More research?"

"No. Calculations."

Stan's shoulders slumped; but all he said was, "Suit yourself. Don't stay up too late."

Ford glanced back once into the kitchen. Bill wasn't moving. He sat slumped in a chair, elbows on his knees. He'd pulled on his hood. Its eye stared at Ford.

Ford wasn't about to pity Bill over a performative display of angst. He'd fallen for that already.

He returned to his study and mathematics.

####

Bill stared at his plate of eggs. He mechanically pushed them around on the plate until they formed a perfect equilateral triangle. He scooped out an empty white eye in the middle.

He stood, snatched up the plate, and smashed it on the floor.

They thought he was stupid. They thought he couldn't use a stove if it didn't have knobs, as if he was a child! The humans made it easy for themselves to think of him as a child when they treated him like one, "baby-proof the doors" and "no sharp objects" and "don't talk to strangers." He could show them.

He grabbed the stem where one of the knobs had been removed, and twisted. He heard the hiss of gas under the burner. Everyone was asleep. He could fill the house with gas. It would only take a little push to make a spark and set the entire shack ablaze. In the dark room, he could see the first glimpse of future flames flickering yellow-orange in the periphery of his foresight. No one would survive. Who's your god now, smart guy? He'd rise like a phoenix from his own corpse and he'd tear this town apart.

Where was Mabel?

Was she home tonight?

Bill turned off the gas.

He pushed up his sleeve and pressed the fleshy part of his forearm onto the still-hot burner. The pain burned away his jumbled anger so he could think clearly.

Who cared how the nutty sculptors had gotten Bill's address? He was making good progress on lucid dreaming; maybe he'd astral projected across the country to call for help and forgotten it when he woke up. He'd probably saved himself without even remembering it. It didn't matter. The important thing was that they'd received the message; and now, Bill had friends on the outside. Friends who were on his side.

If he could ever contact them again.

Bill would find a way. He didn't need Ford's help. "Never worshiped you." Ha.

He needed fresh air. Even if it wasn't safe to escape yet, he needed to breathe. He carried himself backward through doorway into the gift shop, pulled aside the curtain hiding the ladder to the roof—

The trap door was shut. He stared up in despair.

He shot a glare toward the vending machine, and angrily crossed back into the living room.

The air was so stuffy inside the shack. "Never worshiped you." Liar. If it wasn't worship then what was it?

Bill took himself upstairs. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. He lay on his makeshift bed curled up around himself, arms wrapped tight across his stomach, his burn pressed hard against a layer of knit yarn, thighs pulled up against his arms. It was a wholly alien position. It felt unnatural and bizarre. This body had curled like this of its own volition. It seemed like the only thing that briefly smothered the ache of emptiness and the hormonal inferno screaming loneliness through every vein. The loneliness wasn't his. He wasn't lonely. This body was. 

Cipher, my lord.

He hated this body.

He ached to be revered again.

####

It was two in the morning. Ford sat at his desk, pages and pages of math scattered before him, glasses off, hand rubbing his eyes.

He didn't want to be checking a mountain of math like a human calculator. He wanted to be studying strange magic and researching new anomalies. He wanted to be digging through Bill's grimoire.

He wanted to be awed again.

####

(I've been waiting to write/draw Bill screaming his grief over not being worshiped since literally April. I hope y'all enjoyed! This is one of my favorite chapters so far, I'd love to hear what y'all think!!)

[the-entitie]

Why didn't you say anything?

Poly TF 141 x sex-demon reader (male intended but has depictions of fem):

A|n: Based on this writer's amazing work and this artist's au. And now this is very long.... I can't just write porn can I? Of well.

Prt:2 is done <3 》》》》》

Be warned I use more Catholic or deamon depiction of our succubus(male) reader, so please expect some body horror esk depictions. Also, the 141 are all in a polycule in this story.

CW: NSFW halfway through after the line break, sex addiction or dependence depicted for reader, threats to health, kind of eating disorder esk, talk of threats/acts of noncon and dubcon to reader (not focused on), polyamory, some talk of religion, why is this so long? And angst??? Ok....

Thinking about being a demon who became the 141's spy. The blood of the damned that ran through you, making you that much more dangerous and that much better at your job.

You fell under the deadly sin of lust, but it's been so many decades that you can't quite remember how you came to be. Maybe reincarnation, maybe you were summoned. It doesn't matter anymore, but it still hindered your intake into the military. You were practically a veteran by the time Price picks you up and drags you into his team.

None of the 141 had ever worked with anyone demonic for an extended amount of time. There had been the call ins and times when they picked up failed missions, but none of them ever really worked with a demon.

Ghost, as a wraith, was the closest any of them had gotten to working with anyone similar to you.

You started out as someone they called to scope out information before a particularly threatening mission. You were just the help, the one they called when they needed a spy. Until they leaned about how every other task force would drop you within a month of calling you thiers.

Price had worried that it was something to do with you or your attitude towards teamwork when he had taken you in, made you one of his men.

That was before he noticed this kind of cycle you would go through. Just when a mission would start, you would pull back. You would separate from everyone, not cold turkey, yet you just wouldn't be present. The training room was one person short, or their would be one less person here on the quieter afternoons he didn't even know this team had.

It was after the missions that you would be more than present again.

You were there again when Soap wanted to run his lycanthopic body to exhaustion just so he could feel just a little more human with the pains it brought. When he was hyper, feeling like he needed to move, you were there to shove him. Drag him into a game of tag or chase or anything to help him move. Soap has never been good at sitting still.

When Gaz needed to be called from the purch he picked to preen his damp or irritated feathers on that was away from the busy noise of the base. Or when his Avian blood told him to take to the sky, you were happy to be taken for a flight or watch him loop around, watch him stretch his wings, across the star splattered skies.

And there you were outside with the nocturnal Ghost, saying you didn't need the sleep most nights and got bored. Even when his form would flicker, tendrils of shadows lashing around his open skin, something that made most run. You stayed with him, hummed a tune you can't remember the origin of, in a language probably only those as old as you would remember.

When Price was struck with phantom pain, when he would feel this pang on his wing only to realize it was from the one that didn't exist anymore. You were there with him. Happy to share a cigar with the smoke that smoldered was neither from his drag nor you. There to sit and fill in paperwork long into the night shift, to just exist around Price when the team was still settling in, or licking wounds.

In the more common areas where Soap would annoy Gaz into another game of cards. You were there to keep the peace.

It had taken Price longer than he was willing to admit to know what was going on. It wasn't some manipulative, carrot and stick, trick no. And it almost seemed like you hadn't consciously been doing it. Before it clicked.

You were a demon, a succubus, to be specific. You fed off of the emotion or the intent of sex.

And you only got that when you needed to get someone to talk. You only lean into it when it's needed for a mission.

He honestly felt stupid, like a leader that failed, but he was quick to right that failure. It wasn't like this team didn't run off and blow off steam together or that they left soap to struggle through his heat alone, nor did they leave Gaz to sit and brood alone. None of that.

And if you were a part of his team, this team, then you can't be starved. Can't be left to weaken, to crave, no. Price wouldn't stand it.

So he talked to the team. Told them his theory, his plan to fix it, and when the team had gotten over the hurt of leaving you alone and weak. They jumped at the opportunity.

Starting small.

Being more openly affectionate around you, never quiet reaching out but still letting the emotions linger.

Those play fights that Ghost would tap out of suddenly just kept going, and those thick visceral emotions none could quiet place the origin of; would hang so heavy in the air you could practically catch it between your teeth.

Those days Gaz would pull back, preen his wings alone; became fewer and far between. Now, the nearest team mate had a lap full of fluffled up wings and pleading eyes. And could Gaz use those honey coated eyes of his to glance up through his lashes and beg.

The quiet chuckles and this ever so pleased emotion would wind around Price's incisors, a satisfied thrill of the dragon flooding a palpable semblance of the satisfied job.

Price started talking about to the team, and they started trying to be more connected, more present, with you so you could have that nourishment. And if that meant that private room doors were left ever so lightly ajar during late nights spent with each other. No one mentioned it.

Soap was the first to notice the actual change.

Your eyes would flicker, puplis vibrating softly before it was shut down, and you would disappear. Or you would actually pull back. He was also the first to tell Price. And thier leader waisted no time.

"You good there, lutenent?" His voice calls softly into your quarters.

"All good Cap."

"Not so sure about that one soldier." Price presses on, taking a step further in to push the door more closed, "You don't play well with this team?"

"No, I have no qualms with any of you. Sorry if it seemed so."

"Ya do always talk so proper like you know?"

"Apologies, old habits."

Price steps closer, easily taking the space offered my your open thighs. Letting that simmering feeling flush his skin.

"Maybe we should start making new ones. What do you say, Sugar?"

His hand hovered just over your throat, careful to keep you feel safe. Price of all people knows what a demon can do when cornered, and it wasn't like he wanted you to feel put off.

He sees what Soap saw, just as his palm cups the edge of your jaw, your pupils flicker. Body dropping almost leaning agaisnt him.

"Why didn't you say something, Suguar?"

"Not of my use in this team."

"You don't need to be useful to eat." He sounded almost angry, calming all the more when you do lean into him, "you never need to earn a meal. Just ask. We all want to help."

That night, he let you ride him.

Laid back against your bed, held your weight by your thighs, and let you set the pace. Even if he was so hard it hurt, or if your dark lion-esk tail would flick across the sensitive inside of his thigh. Or when he's come twice and is practically drooling before he notice just how much more like your kin you look.

He doesn't stop you from flicking a forked tongue over the overwhelmed tears, he only noticed the change at the hitch of your breath when Price tangles his scared hands in your hair. Accidently tracing the curving rams horns that has twisted around your more pointed ears.

Singing your praise, even as you tried and failed to explain that you don't matter in this, just his pleasure.

He shut that down real quick.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

WEARING IMAGINARY RINGS

touya todoroki x reader

you find your late husbands last words. his real last words.

mha official ending spoilers

part 3/3, part one, part two

inspired by fresh out the slammer

the news of his death came as a surprise to no one.

there was no long explanation, no teary eyes other than yours. it was simple: one day, he just couldn’t hold on any longer. he had succumb to his injuries from all those years ago. at some point, your husband, amidst the beeping of hospital machines and wiring, took his final breath.

his family was doing okay, or so you heard. rei was distraught, just wondering how this could have all been different. she cursed herself for ever bringing touya into the world, only to condemn him to suffer. fuyumi, like an eldest daughter would, tried desperately to hold it all together. natsuo didn’t show up until afterwards, and seemed angry at everything and everyone. shouto hardly spoke, but his silence was the perhaps the loudest thing in that room. no one could even look enji in the eyes. good.

and so instead of grieving with your in-laws, you sat on your living-room floor. the hard wood tiles seemed to grieve alongside you, as if wondering where touya was. this house was a home, and the floors loved to house both of you together. now, with just one person, it seemed incomplete.

touya’s blue jacket hung around your shoulders. you clutched it around your body, trying to savour the remnants of his scent. if you couldn’t save him, you’d save his clothes.

in the midst of your hands feeling the fabric, an unfamiliar sensation washes over your fingers as it wanders into the right pocket. its paper.

you slowly take it out, looking at its rather crumpled and old appearance. this must have been there for quite some time. smudged in ink is your name.

your breath hitches, but the desperation to hear from touya again washes over as you slowly unfold the paper. your hands shake slightly as you unfold the paper, as you’re immediately met with the sight of touya’s familiar handwriting. each letter loops and curls in a way that is uniquely his. the mere sight of his handwriting brings a fresh wave of pain and sadness, but similarly, a sense of comfort. his words on paper was almost like hearing his voice speak to you once again, wherever he was now.

Doll,

I don’t know when you’re going to find this, or if you ever will. But if you’re reading this now, it probably means something happened. Whether I’m still alive or not, I want you to know a few things.

First, I love you. So goddamn much. I never thought it was possible to love someone so much, to feel like they’re a part of me. And a part of me still doesn’t believe that you love me too. You’re an idiot for that.

I wanted to spend my whole life with you. Wake up next to you every day, hold you in my arms, kiss you, laugh with you, fight and make up and just.. be with you. But that kind of happiness isn’t meant for me. Not after everything I’ve done. But if there is an afterlife, I hope I’ll get all of that there.

I don’t regret what I did. Taking down Enji.. But I do regret leaving you. And If I could, I’d be running back home to you. To your shitty cooking, to you wearing my clothes. I’d finally agree to get all the cats you wanted, and I’d make more time for you. I was such a prick while I was around, but you loved me anyway.

And If I knew better towards the end, I’d learn from all these mistakes. I’d vow to never lose you ever again. I love you like that, doll. And I’ll never really understand why you love me. Why you’d deal with all the questions, how you’d disappear from your normal life for just a glimpse of my smile. Don’t know how I got so lucky.

And If I know my wife, I know that you’ll still wait up at the porch light. Remember all the times I’d run up to you, only after midnight so no one would find us. When I’m with you it doesn’t matter what I’ve done. If things were different, I wouldn’t have screwed up. If I knew I was gonna fall in love with you, I’d be a better man. What a coward I am, right doll?

I know how hard this is going to be, living without me. I know that you’re going to be hurting, that you’re going to feel lost and alone and like you want to just give up and be with me. And I don’t want you to do that. I want you to keep going, to live your life, to be happy. Please, for me. You have so much more to give and experience in your life, and I don’t want you to waste it.

I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, and a part of me feels like a goddamn coward for writing this instead of saying it to your face. But I just can’t bear the thought of seeing you cry, of seeing the pain in your eyes, of seeing the realization that this is goodbye on your face. I’m a selfish asshole, and I couldn’t handle it. So I chose the coward’s way out.

Keep my ring. If you do find some other asshole who loves you, just know I love you more. I know I told you to move on, but I’m a selfish prick. Whoever that guy is he can go fuck himself. You’re my wife.

Just promise you’ll keep living, for me. Keep being that bright, beautiful, kind, amazing person that I fell in love with. All those nights, you kept me going. I am so, so fucking grateful I got to love you while I did.

And one day, when it’s your time to go, come and find me in the afterlife. I’ll be waiting for you.

Yours,

Touya

[llamagoddessofficial]

As a scuba diver I can confirm how quickly a peaceful dive can turn scary; on a sea dive I was so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot to watch my oxygen gauge. Thankfully my buddy was there to let me use his air supply and take me to the surface.

What would the siren boys do if MC got into danger while diving, such as very low oxygen? Maybe MC was pulled by the current and drifted away from other divers? Would they help her or take advantage of the situation?

Sans: Her life entirely depends how serious the 'trouble' in question is.

He'll save her if it's a very easy problem for him to solve. Like... if she's near the surface but runs out of air, he can rush her up the last couple of metres. If she drifts away from her friends and is struggling hard against the current, he can loop her arms around his neck and swim her back to them. Things that are emergencies to her, but slight inconveniences to him, he'll help with - especially since saving her life is a very easy way to get a LOT of favour with her. He likes the way she looks at him after he saves her. Beautiful, breathless, exhausted, staring like for a moment she adores him as much as he adores her.

However... a more complex issue? He'd let her drown. Maybe she's too far away from the surface and taking her straight upward wouldn't be safe. Maybe she's entered a state of panic and is making things worse for herself and he can't convince her to hold onto him. Maybe, even, she's in trouble but she simply hasn't seen him. If she never knew he was there she wouldn't be upset he didn't help.

He'll watch. It's just a little bit of discomfort. Then? They can be together forever.

Red: Come on. It's our boy. Our respect women juice chugging world champ - of course he'll rescue her, no matter what.

Her dive buddies definitely recount the story to her. Red was goofing off like he always does, nipping and shoving people he doesn't like, making it clear he's the 'alpha' around here. But suddenly, something about him flips... something in his disposition instantly changes. He becomes completely serious, and beelines into the near distance.

... And it's only once he's with her that everyone else notices she's silently struggling. They wouldn't have known to help if Red hadn't drawn attention to her.

He acts silly and stupid. But he's always paying attention to his mate, even when far away, using his incredible senses to keep tabs. He can sense her heartbeat with his electroreception, hear her breathing in the regulator, smell her blood in her veins. He's much smarter than he acts, and if the situation gets messy, there's not much better help underwater than a massive aggressive shark who'll move mountains to keep her safe.

Skull: Surprisingly, he'll do his absolute best to save her.

You'd expect the big lug to be the one actively pulling her down. But Skull doesn't really have a plan, so to speak, with his beloved little diver, he isn't plotting her death like Sans. He just wants to be around her; he wants to court her, show her what a good mate he'll be, show her pretty rocks and gifts, win her love and pull her back no matter how many times she tries to swim away from him. So it doesn't really matter what's happening - if Skull sees her struggling, he just sees his mate in distress, and he wants to rescue her. He doesn't like seeing her in visible pain or terror.

He might be delayed in helping if she's under the effects of nitrogen narcosis, because that just makes you act silly and drunk, so he wouldn't actually know anything was wrong. But as soon as he notices something off (she takes out her regulator, passes out, etc) he'll do everything he can to save her. He's a good boy underneath all those scars and deadly tentacles.

[jungshookz]

jungkook & y/n are too shy to admit they like each other and it's cute but also infuriatingly frustrating

➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader // quarterback!jungkook x librarian!y/n 

➺ genre; sfw!! honk honk humour!! soft soft fluff!! indulging in my wattpad-esque clichés!! 

➺ wordcount; 7.3k

➺ summary; as much as you hate having to work on campus over the summer because you’d much rather be tanning on the beach inside of getting progressively paler in the library, you really can’t complain about getting to see a bunch of shirtless, sweaty boys running around on the football field whenever you’re on lunch break… and the fact that one of them is jeon jungkook is certainly an added bonus. 

➺ what to expect; “you know, the next time you have an idea, i’d really appreciate if you ran it by me first before being a dickhead and launching a football right at someone-“

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; whatta man (feat. en vogue) — salt-n-pepa 

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“yo!” 

“oh, jesus-“ you spin around and let out a breath of relief to see that it’s just jennie, pressing your palm flat against your chest before frowning, “you have got to stop doing that! you know, one of these days, i’m going to accidentally clobber you with a book and it’s not going to be my fault if i give you a concussion-“ 

“oh, please, like you have the hand-eye coordination to actually knock someone out-“ jennie snorts, adjusting the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder before wiggling her brows at you, “you wanna grab some lunch? didn’t your break start, like, ten minutes ago?” 

“yeah, but then i saw edna putting books away and i love her because she reminds me of my grandma but god, it was making me anxious seeing her using the ladder,” you gesture over to the creaky wooden ladder at the end of the aisle, “so i told her i’d put the books away for her before i took my break.” 

“you work too hard at a job that pays you too little,” jennie purses her lips, glancing down at your cart before grabbing the handle and pushing it forward, “you can come back and finish it! it’s not like the school is going to fall apart if you don’t put a few books back in the next hour-“ 

“well, i just- jennie- you’re not authorised to touch the cart-“ you press your lips together when you realise that you probably aren’t going to change her mind (you know you won’t) and put the book in your hand away in its place on the shelf before nodding contently, “okay, fine. we can go for lunch, but i’m coming back early to finish the job-“

“yes, yes, don’t worry, i won’t keep you for long-“ jennie teases, looping her arm through yours as the two of you head back towards the front desk so you can grab your bag, “my favourite food truck is back this week and i was thinking about those chilli oil dumplings the whole time i was in class- i honest to god couldn’t even tell you what we talked about today-“

“ooh, i want chilli oil dumplings!” you gasp, energy levels shooting up at the mention of food, “i’m gonna ask if they can give me an extra container of their dipping sauce… how was class?” 

“eh, it was alright,” jennie shrugs with a shoulder, letting go of you so you can dip behind the desk to grab your phone and your wallet from your bag, “kinda hate the fact that i have to take summer classes to catch up on my credits, but whatever-“

“maybe if you spent less time with your tongue down taehyung’s throat all semester, then you wouldn’t have to take summer courses…” you tease lightly, jennie’s cheeks flushing bright red before she rolls her eyes and scoffs, “oh, don’t look at me like that! you know it’s true-“

“you’re just jealous because you’ve been wanting to stick your tongue down jungkook’s throat all semester but you’re too much of a wuss to do anything about it-“

“jennie!”

“you know it’s true-“ jennie mocks, and you scowl before reaching over to pinch her arm playfully, laughing lightly when she wraps her arms around herself and starts to make out with the air, “oh, jungkook, wrap your big, strong arms around me-“ 

“okay, point taken, you lunatic-“ 

taehyung and jennie have been dating for the last eight months — they met because jennie’s on the cheerleading squad and taehyung’s on the football team and jungkook is one of his team members — which means that you’ve known of jungkook for the last eight months but yes, it’s true that you’ve been too much of a wuss to do anything about it 

can anyone blame you, though?? jungkook is just so, painfully attractive with his lopsided, boyish grin and pretty eyes and structured jawline and you certainly don’t have any complaints about the sleeve of tattoos he has 

to be perfectly honest, you think you can keep it pretty cool even when you’re around people you find attractive, but there’s just something about jungkook that makes you uncharacteristically nervous 

like clammy palms and cottonmouth and endless rambling level of nervous 

you’d just hate to embarrass yourself in front of him because he seems a little too good to be true and it makes you want to present yourself as someone who is also on that level… which, of course, is a lot of pressure and has resulted in you spending the last eight months either hiding behind jennie’s back or sitting on the bleachers scrolling through your phone or thumbing through a book while waiting for her to finish up with taehyung whenever you’re on the field in order to avoid jungkook

you haven’t spoken to him too often, but he smiles at you every time he sees you and you smile back and give a wave if you’re feeling a little more brave

other than that, you really haven’t had many conversations with him 

“i just don’t understand why you won’t let taehyung set you guys up on a date,” jennie frowns, “like- you literally have inside access to the man and you’re still not making a move-“

“because if taehyung sets us up, then jungkook will feel obligated to go out with me because i’m his best friend’s girlfriend’s best friend- wait- best friend’s… girlfriend’s… best… friend…“ you pause for a second to make sure you got that right before nodding to yourself, “yeah! and- i don’t know, if the date doesn’t go well, then it’d just be awkward-“

“your wussy nature is holding you back, y/n-“ jennie tsks, and you’re about to defend yourself but you feel your tummy do a flip when you realise that you guys are approaching the field (you usually cut across because it’s a shortcut to the food truck) and you hear the familiar sound of grunting and whistling, “this feels like a canon event, so i’m just gonna let you figure it out… but i’ll tell you right now that jungkook is a hot, hot target for a lot of people on campus and i can literally get you a date in 0.1 seconds, so… just keep that in mind!”

“what do you want from me??” you puff your cheeks out, “he makes me nervous, i can deal with this crush in whichever way i want-“

“baby!” 

both you and jennie look over to see taehyung heading over with a bright grin, the man clearly excited to see his girlfriend

“speaking of a very attractive person-“ jennie giggles, waving at him as she unloops her arm with yours and picks up her pace

you stay at the same pace as you follow her trail, keeping a polite smile on your face as you watch your friend run up to the love of her life

“there you are, i was wondering when you’d come around-“ jennie lets out a squeal when taehyung swoops her up in sweaty, damp-jersey hug before plopping her back down on the ground and giving her a kiss, “hi, y/n-“

“hi, taehyung-“ you laugh lightly, nodding towards him in acknowledgement as you stand at an appropriate distance away from the happy couple, “nice to see you again in all your sweaty glory.” 

“nice to see you again in all your-“ taehyung gestures to you with a teasing smile, “librarian glory. how’s the summer job treating you?” 

“i’m getting paler by the minute and i’m starting to forget how to talk to people like a normal human being.” you joke, “you never stop by!! i’d be more than happy to give you some books to read if you ever take a break from training-“ 

“respectfully, those books would collect dust on my shelf-“ 

“we were talking about jungkook earlier-” jennie interrupts taehyung, reaching up to pat his chest with a giggle, “and how much y/n looooves him-” 

“jennie…” you can’t help but roll your eyes playfully — as much as you adore jennie, sometimes you just wished she wasn’t as stubborn because once she has her sights set on something, she’ll do practically anything to reach her goal 

and her new goal (the previous one was to cuff taehyung, which was an obvious success) is to set you up with jungkook because it’s painfully obvious how huge of a crush you have on him 

“oh shit, you wanna say hi to him?” taehyung grins mischievously, turning back slightly to look over his shoulder, “okay, lemme see if i can get your husband’s attention-“

“woah, wait-“ your eyes widen in panic and you lick over your lips before shaking your head frantically, “i don’t- we were just gonna get lunch, i don’t think-“ 

“yo, kook!” taehyung hollers, holding a hand up before sticking his fingers into his mouth to whistle loudly, “jeon jungkoooook!“ he waves his arm wildly to get jungkook’s attention before stepping aside so that he’s not blocking the view

you feel your entire mouth go dry as soon as taehyung steps aside, your eyes immediately being graced with the sight of a tanned, shirtless jungkook dunking a bottle of ice cold water over the top of his head before shaking it off, tendrils of hair falling perfectly into place as he tosses his head back

he opens his mouth as he pours the last few drops of water into into it before crushing the plastic bottle against his chest with one hand and tossing the flattened piece of plastic into the recycling bin, the bottle bouncing off the rim of the bin before falling into it

jungkook reaches up to run his fingers through his hair as he spins back around and jogs back to join the others, his chest bouncing with every step and oh my god, you need to close your mouth before a fly buzzes right on in 

droplets of water seem to glisten against his sun kissed complexion, and you find yourself letting out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding when he turns around and gives you a very generous view of his toned back tapering down into what you can really only describe as a slutty little waist 

good lord 

“…is he moving in slow motion?” your voice wavers slightly as the question stumbles out of your mouth, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the lenses of your glasses start to fog up because of the heat radiating from your face right now 

“jungkook!”

jungkook looks over his shoulder when taehyung calls for him again and you certainly don’t miss the way his biceps flex when he reaches up to adjust the bandana tied around his left arm 

“get over here, bro!” taehyung gestures for him to come over and jungkook shoots him a thumbs up

“one sec, lemme dry off!” jungkook responds, pointing over to the benches where all their duffle bags are, “hi, jennie!”

“hi, jungkook!” jennie waves back before holding a hand over her eyes to shield herself from the sun before turning around to look at you, “oh my god, you are so in love with him-“ 

“oh, i am not-“ your cheeks flush and you shrink down a little, reaching up to rub the back of your neck, “i just- he’s-“

“we’d be honoured to speak at your guys’ wedding, by the way-“ taehyung smirks, and you hate the way that jennie has one to match with his, the two of them very clearly enjoying how much of an effect jungkook has on you 

they certainly are the perfect couple 

a match made in hell 

“hey, guys!” 

you quickly stand up a little straighter when you see jungkook jogging over, and you almost wonder if the universe is just testing you today when he slides a raw-hemmed crop top over his head, the cut-off sleeves making his arms look more biteable than they already do, “it’s a beautiful day out, thanks for coming out to say hi-“ 

“oh, of course! y/n and i were just gonna grab lunch-“

“hey, specs-“ jungkook flashes you the same crooked grin that makes your heart skip multiple beats in your chest and you know it’s only a nickname but you can’t help but feel a little giddy over the fact that he even gave you one in the first place (he complimented your glasses the first time you met), “those new?” 

“these?” you reach up to adjust the wire-rimmed oval shaped frames sitting on the bridge of your nose, “yeah, i just- i accidentally sat on my old pair and i figured i’d just get a new set- thought i’d try a different style, so…“ 

“i like ‘em! very 90s, really cute-“ jungkook reaches over and flicks your glasses upwards a little, grin widening when he sees the blush spread across your cheeks

“thank you!” you clear your throat when your voice cracks a little and you adjust your glasses slightly before offering him a meek little smile, “i like your crop top. also very 90s of you and really cute-“ 

“you know what else is cute?” jennie interrupts, and you’re about to stop her from saying anything that’s going to embarrass you further (it’s her favourite thing to do and she claims she does it out of love and also to build character), “food, because i am starving. y/n and i were on our way to grab some food — did you boys want anything from the dumpling truck?” 

“ooh, maybe grab one of those scallion pancakes for me for after practice??” taehyung swings an arm around jennie’s shoulder, “if i eat one now i’m definitely going to blow chunks mid-tackle.” 

“and i’ll be the one having chunks blown on them because we’re partners for tackle practice…” jungkook shudders, crossing his arms over his chest, “i’m good though, thanks for the offer!” 

“alright! well, if no one else has anything else to add to this conversation-“ jennie looks over at you and gives you a little look that you know translates to please, for the love of god, make a move only for you to purse your lips and shake your head no, “…okay! one scallion pancake for tae-“

“kook, you got anything to add?” taehyung looks over at jungkook and jungkook shakes his head no as well, frowning a little when taehyung gives him a look that he’s not sure what message is being expressed with, “…okay. one scallion pancake for me, i guess.” 

“we’ll let you two get back to it! i’ll see you in a bit, baby-” jennie pops a quick kiss on taehyung’s cheek before joining your side again and looping her arm through yours, “don’t lose too many brain cells during practice!”

“can’t lose any if you didn’t have any to start with-“ jungkook chimes in, dodging a punch on the arm before letting out a cackle and going into a full sprint when taehyung suddenly lunges at him, “see you later, jennie! bye, specs!” 

“‘bye, specs-‘“ jennie quotes, nudging your side as the two of you continue your trek, “you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s not a little into you-“ 

“my theory is that he knows i’m very into him and it makes his ego feel good so he just acts in ways that’ll make me all flustered so that-“

“okay, i’m gonna stop you right there and i’m going to say this out of love and also because i know you and i know the way you think, but i know for a fact that you think jungkook is out of your league and that’s what’s making you shrivel up into such a wimpy little shrimp whenever he’s in close proximity-“

“wha-“ 

“at the end of the day, jungkook is literally just a man.” jennie tsks, shrugging with one shoulder, “if he doesn’t like you, it would clearly be his loss because you’re a beautiful, loyal, witty, well-educated baddie-“

“you sound like such a cheerleader right now-“ 

“-but also he very clearly likes you so obviously he has his priorities right and a solid head on his shoulders-“ she spins over to stand in front of you, grabbing both your shoulders and giving you a shake, “stop getting into your own head. he is just a man. if it’s not him, it’s not the end of the world. if you don’t try, the answer is always gonna be no.” 

“…i don’t like how well you know me.” 

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

you’ve spent so much time in the library this summer that you’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be in the sun — lucky for you, it was a slow day at the library and one of your co-workers came in a little early before his shift and very generously offered to cover for you, meaning that you could join jennie on the bleachers for lunch and actually sit and bask in the sun inside of buying lunch and hustling back to the library like you usually do 

“c’mon, fellas, you can do better than that!” 

the sound of the whistle blowing makes you peel an eye open as you look down towards the field, a smile twitching at the corner of your mouth when you hear taehyung letting out a groan before collapsing dramatically on the floor 

your eyes wander over to jungkook, watching as he readjusts his bandana around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes 

he claps his hands together and crouches down slightly before gesturing for taehyung to come at him, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration and his jaw clenched slightly 

“are you listening to me or are you too busy drooling over jungkook?”

“i’m listening, i’m listening…” you let out a sigh of contentment, letting warm rays of sun wash over your skin as you lean back against the bleachers with your elbows on the steps and your head tilted back slightly 

you swear you’re a good friend and a great listener, but jennie’s been babbling on and on about something for the last ten minutes and you’re starting to zone out a little bit 

“i mean, seriously… how hard is it to slap a couple of sentences onto a slide and make it work? this is why i hate group projects, and i especially hate the summer school students because they’re just so damn lazy and no one ever puts in the work and then there’s always one person who ends up having to do everything and everyone still gets credit for it!” jennie scoffs, chewing on her straw with a scowl, “it’s due tomorrow and half of my group mates haven’t uploaded their slides yet-“

“well, didn’t you say you haven’t uploaded yours yet either?” you frown, raising a hand to block the sun from your eyes before squinting a little

jennie pauses, pursing her lips in thought, “…yes, but i’m just waiting to see what they’re going to do before i upload mine-“

“then maybe they’re doing the same thing and all of you are just wasting each other’s time?” you suggest with a weak shrug, reaching over to pick up your drink and take a sip (it’s a strawberry lemonade slushie and it was the perfect choice for this lovely summer afternoon)

“you know, as my best friend, you’re supposed to have my back and this just feels like a personal attack-“ 

“jennie, baby!” both you and jennie look out towards the field to see taehyung waving his arms around wildly, “check it out, check out how far i can throw the ball! i’m gonna get it right into the goal, you watch me-” he backs up a few steps before drawing his right arm back and throwing the football in one sharp-

“mine!” jungkook leaps up into the air all of a sudden and catches it swiftly, hugging the football to his chest before dashing off into a sprint towards the goal posts, “lunch is on you if i get this goal-“

“what the-“ taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “you little shit, get back here!” he snaps, chasing after him and pouncing on his back before jungkook can get to the goal 

the two of them tumble to the ground, jungkook letting out a grunt as he lets go of the football and lets it roll away 

“you so did that just to get y/n’s attention.” taehyung huffs, wincing as he stares up at the sky, “jesus, i am not made for tackling, i have no idea how i made it onto the team-“ 

“because you’re the fastest runner and- also, i did not do that just to get y/n’s attention-“

“okay, mr. quarterback, your job is to throw or hand the ball off and i just find it funny that you stopped practicing that as soon as you realised y/n was in the bleachers- there are other ways to get her attention.”

“i wasn’t doing it for attention!” jungkook props himself up onto his elbows with a frown before pursing his lips and tilting his head a little, “…is she looking at us, though?”

“she’s talking to jennie.” taehyung snorts, getting back up onto his feet and picking the ball up before holding a hand out for jungkook, “you wanna get her attention? because i have a little idea.”

“what’s your- taehyung, wait-“ 

“did you still wanna watch barbie together this weekend?” you turn to look over at jennie as you bring your cup back up to your mouth for a sip (your drink is starting to turn into a warm, strawberry lemonade syrupy soup and it’s not very pleasant), “or are you seeing that with tae?” 

“well, i was thinking we could actually do a little double date situation if you’re up to it…” jennie grins, reaching over to swat your knee, “it’s a movie date! it’s like two hours of being in a dark room with jungkook sitting next to you and you won’t have to make conversation, you’re gonna be fine-“

“well yeah, but then after the movie’s over we’re probably gonna go get food and-“

“incoming!”

“wha- oh!” you yelp in surprise when a football lands on you out of nowhere, the cap on your drink popping open and subsequently making you spill it on yourself as you get up frantically, “oh, god…” you set your cup down on the metal steps as you look down at your soaked tank top and jeans, the sweet-sticky fragrance of strawberry lemonade invading your nostrils 

“aw, it’s on my bag!” jennie scowls, looking at the two droplets of pink staining the cream of her tote bag with a frown, “this artificial pink is gonna take forever to wash out-“

“yeah, tell me about it-“ you wince, shaking your hands off as you continue analysing the mess

it’s quite literally all over your tank top and lap and you don’t have a spare top or pants with you, so the only plan you have right now is to book it to the campus bookstore and buy an overpriced t-shirt 

you hate to admit it but it looks like you pissed your pants big time, so maybe you’ll have to buy a pair of overpriced basketball shorts too 

“are you fucking kidding me??? that was your idea of- oh my god, you dumbass-” jungkook snaps, turning to look at taehyung incredulously before sprinting over to the bleachers 

“hey, it got her attention!”

jungkook wipes his clammy hands on his jersey as he dashes up the steps two at a time until he gets to you and jennie, feeling his cheeks burn slightly when he sees you standing there soaked in your drink and obviously not knowing what to do 

“shit, y/n, i’m sorry-“ jungkook bends down to pick up the football before it can roll down the steps, “i’m so sorry, i was supposed to catch that but taehyung’s aim seems to be a little off this afternoon-“ he turns his head for a second to shoot a glare at taehyung, who is very leisurely making his way up the stairs as if he didn’t just pelt you with a football and make you waste your drink

“i’m fine! don’t worry about it, i’m fine-“ you laugh lightly, shaking your hands off and peeling your tank top from your stomach slightly, already feeling gross from how sticky everything is against your skin, “good throw, tae-“ 

“thank you! i have to say it was one of my best throws, if i’m being honest.” taehyung wiggles his brows, plucking the ball from jungkook’s arm before swooping down to give jennie a kiss, “you two enjoying the sun?” 

“we were, until that happened-“ jennie reaches up to pinch taehyung’s cheek, “your aim must be horrible if the football landed in the bleachers.” she raises an eyebrow and gives him a look that tells him that she knows he did that on purpose, because of course he would do something like this on purpose 

“i have a spare jersey and shorts in my bag, i can go get that for you right now-“ 

“oh, jungkook, you really don’t have to do-“ you don’t get a chance to finish before jungkook is dashing down the steps and you puff your cheeks out before looking down at yourself again, “i… should probably go rinse this off-“ 

“rinsing that off in the sink isn’t going to get the pink out.” taehyung snorts, “i’ve had that strawberry lemonade before. the pink food-dye they use is potent. if you took an x-ray right now, all of your organs would be neon pink-” 

“great, that’s great to know- lemme head to the washroom now-“ 

“i’ll come with-“ jennie’s ears prickle slightly when she hears the familiar sound of the sprinklers turning on (they’ve turned on automatically many times whenever the squad is practicing on the field) and a lightbulb appears at the top of her head before her lips turn up in a devious grin, “there is a faster way to clean you off, actually. tae, can you go check on the spare clothes for y/n?” 

taehyung narrows his eyes slightly before nodding slowly, turning on his heel and hopping down the steps to go back to jungkook 

“you think i should go to the changing rooms instead to take a shower?” you sigh, wincing as you squeeze out excess pink syrup from your shirt and let it drip onto the concrete 

and now you got some on your shoes too, so that’s just great

“well, the changing rooms are too far!“ jennie’s tone is suspiciously cheery, and before you know it she has a firm grip on your wrist is yanking you down the steps like her own little ragdoll before she whips around the corner under the archway 

“what are you doing?” you frown, watching as she unravels the massive hose and makes sure the nozzle is on securely 

“jungkook’s bringing you a change of clothes anyway, so i’m sure you won’t mind if i-“ 

you barely process what the hell is going on before you’re suddenly being blasted with a hose, another yelp of surprise slipping past your lips before you hold your arms up to dodge the aggressive spray of water directly aimed at you 

“jennie!”

“you know, the next time you have an idea, i’d really appreciate if you ran it by me first before being a dickhead and launching a football right at someone-“

“well, it got her attention, didn’t it? and now she’s about to wear your clothes, so like- i don’t really see what the big issue is here.” taehyung sighs, standing with his hands on his hips as jungkook digs through his duffle bag for his spare set of clothes

he only has one set so he’s not sure what he’s going to wear after practice today, but maybe he can get away with spraying himself with a lot of deodorant after he takes a nice hot shower 

or he could steal taehyung’s clothes considering the fact he caused the spillage in the first place 

“you could’ve hurt them or something! what if that football had landed on her head and given her a concussion?” 

“you clearly underestimate my impeccable aim. if i wanted to knock y/n out, i would’ve knocked her ass out in one shot-“ taehyung scoffs, walking alongside jungkook as the two of them start trudging across the field back towards where you and jennie are

“and where am i even supposed to go from here, huh?” jungkook frowns, “ooh, she spilled her drink all over herself and now she has to wear my clothes-“

 

“clothes that she’ll have to return to you at some point, prompting another sweet but heinously short conversation between the two of you- do you even realise how frustrating it is for me, as your best friend, to watch you clearly be into a girl and not know how to act around her when you could literally cough and make, like, ten people cream their pants-“

“eugh- hate that imagery-“ 

“well, it’s true!”

“nobody is going to cream their- what the-” jungkook stops in his tracks and holds a hand out to stop taehyung when they get close enough to see jennie literally hosing you down 

“there you go, girl!” jennie laughs, raising the hose upwards so that the water is raining down on you, “get into it! get that strawberry lemonade outta your clothes-“ 

jungkook watches slack-jawed as you run both hands through your hair to slick it back, your tank top glued and scrunched up to the upper half of your abdomen and oh my god, you have a little tattoo on your hip and that is insanely attractive to him 

“wait, this was actually such a good idea!” you grin, tilting your head up and clearly enjoying the water raining down on you, “helps with the heat, too-“ 

“see? all you have to do is listen to me and you’ll be happy!” jennie lowers the pressure of the water so that it turns into a light mist and you let out a laugh, swiping the water off your face before looking down to see if the stains are out of your clothes 

“holy shit.” jungkook whispers to himself, his grip squeezing and loosening around the clothes he has fisted in his hand 

his entire mouth has gone dry and all of a sudden he also feels the need to be blasted with some cold water to snap out of it 

“is my mascara running?”

“yeah, but it’s giving, like, sexy raccoon, you know?”

“you might wanna put that away, bud.” jungkook grunts as taehyung jabs his elbow into his side and he turns his head to frown at him 

“ow- what are you talking about?” 

the smile grows on taehyung’s face before he presses his lips together to hold it back, “i’m talking about the fact that if you turned to face me right now you would jab me in the thigh.” 

“jab you in the-“ jungkook looks down, eyes widening and the blood immediately draining from his face (obviously, because all the blood is heading down south) before he hands the spare clothes over to tae and yanks the towel off his shoulder to cover himself up, “oh my god, fuck-“ 

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“bye bye, you two!”

“thank you for the clothes, jungkook! i’ll wash them before i give them back to you-“ 

“no problem! bye… bye…” jungkook waves at you and jennie as the two of you walk off, reaching for his water bottle blindly as a fond smile sits on his face 

you look awfully cute in his clothes, that’s all

“you looooooove y/n,” taehyung sings, snatching the water bottle from him with a laugh, “you love her you love her you love her you-“

“oh, cut it out-“ jungkook scowls, reaching for another bottle of water from the pack and twisting the cap off with a crack, “you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“yeah, alright, specs.” taehyung snorts, rolling his eyes playfully, “remind me again why you haven’t asked her out yet? you know she’s into you. and you’re clearly into her.” 

“i just-“ jungkook clears his throat quietly before taking a small sip of water, “i don’t know… flirting is fun and short and easy and i’m just… worried that maybe she won’t like me as much when we’re together and alone for like, three hours on a date.” 

“are you nervous to go out with y/n?” taehyung asks incredulously, eyes widening in what seems to be a mixture of shock and joy, “are you shitting me right now? jeon jungkook is scared to ask someone out on a date because he’s worried they won’t like him-“

“it’s a legitimate fear! i’m allowed to be anxious about it-“

“i never said you weren’t allowed to be anxious about it, i’m just saying that you’re jeon jungkook and you have people lining up for you around the block twenty four hours of the day, seven days a week!” taehyung gives him a hearty slap on the back before swooping an arm around his shoulder and forcing him to turn towards the bleachers, “you think those girls over there are here to actually sit and have lunch?”

jungkook looks over at the clusters of girls scattered around the bleachers, each friend group chatting away and picking at their lunches

“well, they’re not just here for me,” jungkook shakes his head, gesturing to the guys all over the field, “it’s a fuckin’ sausage fest out here, they’re here for everyone-“

“but you’re the only one who can fulfil the hot quarterback boyfriend fantasy.” taehyung jabs a finger into his chest with a grin before reaching down to pat his bare abdomen, “and you’re one of the only single guys left. you’re the belle of the ball, baby.” 

jungkook looks back over at the people on the bleachers, shooting the girls a friendly smile and a nod of acknowledgement when he notices them staring at them 

they burst into fits of giggles, jungkook tilting his head with a cheeky grin and shaking his head again 

he doesn’t know if this is going to be douchebaggy of him to think, but he likes making people flustered!! it’s always fun to see their reactions 

he likes making you flustered in particular, because there’s just something about your reaction that’s just so damn adorable 

sometimes you roll your eyes, sometimes you snort, sometimes you avert your gaze immediately and rub the back of your neck — but he loves the way your eyes widen slightly before your cheeks get rosy

“y/n’s really cool. she’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s funny, she’s educated, she can hold a conversation-“ taehyung clicks his tongue, “and she has that sexy librarian thing going on if you’re into that- which, by the way, is something that jennie told me to mention to you whenever i try to market y/n off to you-“ 

“i know she is!” jungkook nods, “and i know she does, and i’m definitely into it, i just- ah, i don’t know. maybe i should ask her out.” 

“maybe, maybe not…” taehyung raises an eyebrow, “no pressure! it’s whatever if you decide not to, because i can hook y/n up with namjoon or something-“

“hey, hey, no need for such drastic measures,” jungkook frowns, reaching over to give taehyung a punch on the arm, “…alright, fine. i’ll ask her out.”

»»————- 🏈 ————-««

“so, you’re going to find that in the historical fiction aisle-“ you lean over the counter a little and point to the back, “it’s all the way in the back right to your left. you can’t miss it, the label’s going to be right on the front of the bookshelf.” 

“alright, thank you so much.”

“no problem, let me know if you need any help finding anything else.” you smile politely, reaching up to adjust your frames before turning back to look at- “jungkook!” 

your eyes widen in surprise and you’re suddenly happy that edna asked you to stay at the front desk to help people when she already knows you always prefer the lowkey jobs

you haven’t seen jungkook in about a week and a bit (you’ve been pretty busy at the library and there’s just not enough time in your lunch breaks to make the long journey across the football field) but you’re pleasantly surprised to see him here

though… it is just the two of you now, without taehyung and jennie as buffers, so… good luck? 

“hey, specs,” jungkook flashes you a lopsided grin before looking around, shoving both his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket, “god, it’s cold in here, no wonder you’re always wearing jeans in the dead of summer.” 

“oh, yeah-“ you snort, looking down at your jeans, “i- well, we have to keep the library at a certain temperature because it’s good for the books but- i’m sure you’re not here to listen to me talking about how to keep books in pristine condition- did taehyung give you your clothes back? thank you so much for lending them to me, by the way. you’re a lifesaver.”

“yeah, yeah! no worries, hah- sorry i, uh- disappeared for a bit, i just… had to help coach with something, so i gave the clothes to tae and… yeah.” jungkook clears his throat and averts his gaze when you offer him a smile 

“so… can i help you find anything?” 

“well, i actually-“ jungkook chokes a little when he looks back up to see you looking right at him, your pretty eyes sparkling behind your glasses as your lashes bat ever so slightly, “first i just wanted to say sorry again for the slushie incident, i guess i just underestimated how far taehyung could throw a ball-“ 

“oh, god, really, don’t worry about it-“ 

“okay! in that case, i- uh… i just wanted to…” jungkook doesn’t know why his brain always seems to blank out at the most inconvenient of times but he supposes it’s a character development thing, “book!” 

…

book. 

he feels himself deflate slightly at how much of a himbo he’s probably making himself seem and he puffs his cheeks out as he thinks about how the hell he can recover from whatever that was 

for the record, he’s usually very good at asking people out 

like, very good 

he’s just a little out of his element!!! the library is your territory and he doesn’t know if he’s being too loud or if he should speak louder and also there’s a queue forming behind him so now he’s just anxious and he feels like he’s wasting everyone’s time and also if you say no that’s just going to be flat out embarrassing and the people behind him are probably going to tell their friends that there was a guy at the library who asked the front desk girl out and she said no and i felt kinda bad for him and-

“you wanted to… book?” you repeat, the corners of your mouth turning up in a slight smile, “well, you’re certainly in the right place for that.” 

“actually, i didn’t want to book- i mean, i didn’t want a book, i wanted to ask you something-“ 

“oh, sure! you’re also in the right place for that-“ you gesture to where you’re standing behind the desk with a light laugh, “what can i help you with?” 

“do you wanna watch the barbie movie with me this weekend?” jungkook forces the question out before he chickens out, and he stands up a little straighter to feign confidence, “with me… and tae and jennie, because they wanted to watch it too. but we don’t have to share our popcorn and nachos with them, they can get their own snacks.” 

jungkook counts one, two, three seconds before he decides that you are definitely about to turn him down, and he automatically starts sorting through the many lines of dialogue in his brain in response to your inevitable rejection

no worries, have a good one! 

okay, goodbye!

anyways, book time for me! 

“yes!” you respond almost as soon as he’s about to open his mouth and take his offer back (thank god), and jungkook tries to hide his excitement but it’s hard when he sees that you’re also trying your best to hide the megawatt smile creeping its way onto your face, “i- no, yeah, that would be great! i was gonna go regardless but being the third wheel is never fun, so it’d be fun to go with… you. and jennie and taehyung.” 

jungkook gives himself a mental pat on the back, feeling himself revert back into his normal, confident ways all of a sudden 

aha

you said yes 

you like him (and he likes u) 

nice 

“oh, sick! alright, cool-“ jungkook clears his throat, nodding to himself, “yeah, cool, cool. okay, then i guess i will see you… this weekend. or whatever.” 

“or whatever.” you tease, shrugging with one shoulder, “sounds good, jungkook.” 

“okay, well- practice starts in a bit so- see ya, specs-“ jungkook raises his arm to wave only to realise his hand is still in his pocket, and he quickly yanks it out to give you a proper wave as he heads towards the doors 

he lets out a breath of relief, his shoulders loosening up a little and he nods to himself with a proud smile 

“that wasn’t as bad as i thought it’d be.” taehyung chirps right as jungkook walks out the doors, bending down to swoop his bag up off the ground and hand it back to him, “that was worse than i thought it was going to be. jesus christ, man. what the hell was that??” 

“hey, she still said yes!” jungkook frowns, feeling his face turning red from humiliation because he doesn’t even know what the hell that was 

if the roles were reversed he would fully be laughing his ass off at taehyung too 

“she must really be into you if she said yes to watching the barbie movie with me and tae and jennie and they can get their own snacks and-“ taehyung laughs, “my god, it’s like you left all your rizz at the front door-“ 

“she said yes and that’s all that matters!”

🎙️ tease jungkook and y/n for both being little wussies (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[emswritings]

HIHI maybe u could do poly!marauders where reader is upset and they js cuddle her and make sure she's okay and stuff idk i thought it'd be cute

Let us hug you

Synopsis: you had a bad day, but the boys help cheer you up

Wordcount: 0.7k

Tags: poly!marauders x reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader gets a period

Authors note: tbh im not too used to writing hurt, so there isn't much

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been a horrible day for you. First, you get your period and have absolutely horrid camps, then you spill your breakfast on your uniform. That makes you have to go back to your dorm and change, which causes you to be late to your first class, making you lose house points.  All you wanted was a hug from your boys, but every time you tried they always had something they needed to do.

“Sorry dovey, I need to tutor some first years.” 

“Later angel, me and Sirius have practice.”

So you were laying in Sirius’s bed, trying to make yourself feel better about the day.  The tears were flowing freely as their words played on loop in your head. Logically, you knew they were busy, and you knew they weren’t avoiding you, but you couldn't help but feel as though they were.

When James and Sirius entered the dorm after practice, they were met with your sleeping form facing away from them. James coos softly, watching as Sirius makes his way over to you. He pushes your hair back from your head and sucks in a quiet breath when he sees the dried tear streaks on your face. 

“Should we wait for Remus to get back?” James whispers, trying not to wake you yet. Sirius looks up at him and nods his head.

“Let's wait for her to wake up and then ask what's wrong.”

“Wait for who to wake up?” You asked grogily, turning over to face Sirius and James. They jump, then turn towards you smiling. 

“You, lovey,” James says, walking towards you on the bed. You sit up and make room for him beside you, leaning into his side when he does.

“Why?” You ask. You look between them, then groan when yet another cramp hits you.  Leaning more on James now, you wrap your arms around his middle and groan, “missed you guys today.”

James and Sirius exchange a look, but they don't have a chance to say anything, because Remus comes into the dorm. 

“Those first years are getting better and better each time we meet. I think they have a really good chance of getting an O on their next test. Woah, what's wrong dove?” He asks, just now seeing how unwell you looked, and how worried his two boyfriends looked.

“I don't feel good,” you whine quietly, looking up at Remus when he comes over to feel your forehead.

“Oh yeah? What doesn’t feel good lovey?” James asks, running a hand up and down your arm. You sigh, but respond, “it has just been a bad day, and I couldn’t hug any of you, because every time I tried, someone was busy. I know that's not your fault or anything, and I'm not mad at any of you, but still.”

Sirius coos, and sits down at the foot of your bed. “Well, how about this: how about we push some beds together, and cuddle while you tell us what made the day so horrible. Sounds good?” You smile at him and nod, letting out a small, “yeah.”

Sirius and Remus get to work on pushing James’s bed next to where Sirius’s bed is already at. You watch as they get comfortable, and smile when Sirius tells you to go ahead and start the story.

“Well, this morning I got my period, and have been hit with cramps all day. Then, I spilled breakfast on my uniform, so I had to go change, which made me late to Slughorn's class, who took away house points. It sounds a little silly now that I say it aloud, but, I don't know, I just wanted a hug all day.” You finish your mini rant, and change your position so you're laying down.

“I’m sorry love, that had to suck. But we’re here now, so we can lay here as long as you want, alright?” Sirius asks you, smiling when he sees your nod. 

So that's where you stay. At least until dinner, then the boys do rock, paper, scissors to see who is going to get everyone dinner. James and Sirius end up being the two losers, so they go down to the great hall, and Remus takes the chance to pull you close to him. Your front is pressed up against his, and you smile against his chest, and wrap your arms around his middle. You can't be sure, but you're almost certain you heard him whisper “love you” against your hairline. 

James and Sirius come back, and you sit up to eat dinner, then you spend the rest of the night laughing  and cuddling, falling asleep in eachothers arms.

[semperamans]

personally i think benny likes to keep pieces of her with him bc he down BAD

like he’d tie one of her cute scarfs to his belt loop or the the handle of his bike and he just sees it blowing in the wind UGHHH

the scarf on the beltloop the scarf on the beltloop the scarf on the beltloop :'(

you just have so many trinkets and little things that benny has never been exposed to so he's fascinated.

those elastic things you have around your wrist that he can't pronounce most of the time - scrunchies- fuck, he loves those! keeps one on him at all times so you can deal with your hair before putting on a helmet and tells you he's gonna grow his hair out so he can use them, too. zipco has actually taken a few and likes to wear his hair in haphazard, spikey ponytails. it's pretty precious.

then, of course, you kissed benny once and your lips tasted like watermelon and he likes watermelon and likes how it now makes him think of you so when he's going on a few-day run he tucks an extra stick of the flavored chapstick in his pack and when the guys make fun of him because "the fuck is that?" he rolls his eyes. his lips get dry when he's riding, not his fault.

your things are starting to pop up everywhere; you've got a sweater on the coatrack in the clubhouse, a permanent spot between benny and wahoo whenever the club takes a group shot, and you put a pink can of air freshener in the bathroom and sweet smelling handsoap on the sink basin (thank god). benny likes it. likes to see your things scattered about because it means you're there, not going anywhere, stuck with him like glue. there's a spare toothbrush next to his in the cup in the bathroom and a second towel hanging on the back of the door. your earrings are on his nightstand and a chiffon nightie thrown over the lamp from-well- it doesn't matter. your mismatched socks are mixed with his and there is perfume on his dresser and shit, he can't wait for the day you move in for good like you have in his heart.

[chaewillriot]

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

RENTING A BEACH HOUSE WITH THE GANG!

(SBG X FEM! READER)

PART 2 / ?

"Why do you keep tossing in sweets? Do you want us to have diabetes?" Tyler scowls as he watches Aiden scavenge for more items; it seems like he's searching for a specific brand. The blonde doesn't look back at him but tells him to shut up with a single hand gesture.

Tyler groans, running a hand across his face. He has to mentally restrain himself from smacking the shit out of the dumbass. "Why are you like this?"

Ben quickly jots down a few words on his notepad before tapping Tyler's shoulder.

"It's for [y/n]. She loves gummies."

Tyler's face seemed to soften for a brief second but he immediately replaces it with another scowl. Damn, just the thought of you munching on some gummies made him feel weak. Your cheeks would look so cute all puffed up and—

He quickly dismisses the thought.

"Fine, whatever. Do what you want." The brunet ultimately sighs. Maybe, just maybe, he could let it slide this one time.

"Oh, but remember to not eat much! Those things aren't healthy." Logan reminds everyone even though he knows those packs of sweets are for you. Everyone just nods in agreement.

Back with the girls, all three of you weren't that happy to have waited an extra forty minutes for the boys to arrive. Although that anger subsides as today's supposed to be a day to have fun. After paying for the snacks and swimsuits, you all head to the van in the parking lot.

"Aiden, what are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask as you see him crawling on the floor. "You look like a caterpillar."

"Shush." He quickly says.

Tyler sees him acting all idiotic again so he calls him out to the driver. "Hey, mister. Someone's not in their proper sea—"

Aiden, hearing this, hits his head on the edge of one of the seats as he tries to get up from the ground. He silently curses and scurries back to his seat in the rear with Ben.

Everyone stifles in a laugh when they see that happening.

"Calling him out? They're acting like children again.." You mutter under your breath and Logan, who's sitting beside you, lets out a small giggle.

"Well, they're just enjoying their youth." He smiles at you. You smile back at him and reach out to fix his glasses so its not hanging off at the edge of his nose.

The trip would take a while, so you take a nap on Logan's shoulder. He didn't mind. He even intertwines both your fingers together. Everyone else saw that happening but tried not to let it get to their heads. There's plenty more time to bond with you at the Beach House.

By the time the bus comes to a stop, everyone was excited to step off the bus. Logan couldn't get his bags because you were still asleep on his shoulder. He got help from Ben, who easily carried you in his arms while you slept. No one had the heart to wake you up. You looked too cute.

You continued to nap while Ben carried you bridal style in his arms and into the resort. Aiden follows closely behind, carrying your bags and his.

Taylor feels really proud for being able to pull this one off with all of you. After all those hangouts that had been canceled.. This one really paid off. "This is it, guys. We're finally here!"

Ashlyn smiles at her excitement. She takes a look around. "Where do we check-in?"

The area was mostly just Beach Houses, and of course, the beach. The hotel shouldn't be that far. Taylor looks back at the group. "Hm, I'll go ahead and find the receptionist. Some of you guys should stay here. I think there's still a few stuff we've left at the van."

She loops an arm around Ashlyn and Logan, dragging the two to walk on the pebbled ground that probably leads to the hotel. "We'll get going then!"

Tyler sighs. He turns around to face Ben, who's still holding you. He'd be lying if he told himself he didn't want to hold you like that too.

"We should check up on the van," Then he turns to Aiden. "And you, moron. Stay here and don't do anything stupid."

Aiden didn't appreciate the nickname but he did appreciate being left alone, cause that would mean..

Ben gently transfers you to his cousin's arms since he didn't want to wake you up if he's going to get the rest of the luggage. Before he turns to leave with Tyler, he makes a little gesture pointing at your sleeping form, as if he's silently reminding the blonde to keep you safe. He's a bit reluctant as he knows Aiden's tiny (huge) crush on you.

Once the two of you are left alone, Aiden looks down at you, still maintaining that goofy grin on his face. He feels like he won the lottery getting to hold you like this.

"Hehehehe..."

It didn't take long for Taylor, Ashlyn, and Logan to come back. They were able to check-in and get the keys for the Beach House all of you will be staying in for the week. What they didn't expect to see is the luggages scattered on the ground and Aiden carrying you to the shore.

"Aiden!" Taylor almost shrieks out. "Don't you dare drop [y/n]!"

Ashlyn wasted no time running after the boy in order to save you incase Aiden drops you into the water, and Logan runs off to the direction where the van's supposed to be.

By the time Ashlyn caught up, Aiden just keeps running with you still in his arms, even laughing his ass off. Unfortunately, it's been long since you've woken up, but you have no idea what the hell's going on.

Taking a peek over Aiden's shoulder, you almost jump. Ashlyn seems pissed and she's sprinting towards the both of you.

Tyler and Ben came running back in a hurry because of Logan telling them about the commotion. Seeing Ashlyn chasing after Aiden, Ben joins in. He's more worried for you right now.

"Hey, dumbass! I'll kill you if you drop her!" Tyler yells. He couldn't do much as knows he can't catch up at this rate. Aiden's running too far now.

In the end, all of you managed to get back to the Beach House unscathed. Luckily, no one got wet. You're squished on the sofa in between Ashlyn and Tyler. It seems like they're shielding you from Aiden. Their glare could kill, no kidding.

"Petition to not let Aiden near [y/n] anymore?" Taylor suggested.

"Agreed." Everyone says (Ben writes it down) in unison, leaving the blonde with no room for arguments.

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

[water-loos]

Chocolate

“We’re dressed in black from head to toe, we’ve got guns hidden under our petticoats”

dealer!eddie x witchy!ditsy!fem!reader

cw: drug mention, drug use mention, tooth rotting fluff

wc: 1,504

“Babe, just because they’re purple and you like the color does not mean that the Blazy’s are better,” Eddie groaned for the umpteenth time, looking at the older man behind the smoke shop counter for a lifeline.

“They’re the same price as the RAW cones! You’re the one who said we should expand the market and try and get some new customers. I’m telling you, all of my friends would start buying from you if they were getting a purple preroll. Even better if it’s a purple preroll of the special dreaming blend that I came up with,” You smiled brightly, long, dark nails tapping excitedly on the glass countertop. “It’s a great marketing tactic.”

“Sweetheart—“

“She’s got a point, Eddie. The ladies love it when their shit is all pretty,” The shop owner snorted.

“Thank you, Dennis!” You motioned toward the man, rings clacking on the counter as your hand came to rest on top. “A little sexist, but correct. Please, Eddie?”

When Eddie looked back at you, you could see his eyes melt. “Fine. Give me two shorts, two regulars, and two kings.”

“One pink, one purple?”

“Yes please!” You reached up to kiss your boyfriend right on the apple of his cheek, leaving behind a black cherry-colored lipstick mark. “I promise it’ll be worth it. I’ll pinky swear on it.”

“You get your cones and your blend, that’s it,” His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he looked down at you pointedly. “That’s it. I’m not having you take over my business, alright?”

“Mhm. That’s it. Just those,” You confirmed, nodding your head. “Can you ring up a few of those fun little incense cones in a separate order, Dennis? I’m running out and I need some for my altar.”

“Will do, sweetie. Just don’t give your man any more trouble, alright?”

“On my life, I will not give him any more trouble.”

——

You swore up and down that you would stop at the cones and the special blend of weed and other herbs.

But then you found a pack of navy blue mesh bags covered in tiny stars that could comfortably fit half an ounce at the craft store. In the clearance aisle. For $2.99.

“Baby, you have got to be kidding me,” Eddie sighed, watching you come in the door, platform boots stomping excitedly as you bounded into the living room of your shared trailer, the bags clutched in your hands. “Don’t tell me those are what I think they are.”

“They are that exactly! Aren’t they cute? Look,” You swung yourself into his lap, legs hanging over the arm of the rocker he had been lounging in. His arm instinctively wrapped around you and rested on your hip, making sure you wouldn’t fall off. “They can fit at least half an ounce and still have room. Not to mention the amount of prerolls you can fit! And they tie super nicely so you can keep everything together!”

His head buried into the crook of your neck, his dramatic groaning rumbling against your skin. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Is that a yes? Please tell me that’s a yes,” You immediately get excited, dropping the bags into your lap and looping your arms around his drooping shoulders. “Have I told you I love you this afternoon? If not, I love you. I love you more than the sky and the sea and the moon and the stars—“

“Yes, angel, you’ve told me you love me more than I can count today,” He laughed sweetly, lifting his head to look at your expression. You could tell he was trying so hard to stand his ground, but the smile on his lips gave him away. “I can’t let you use the bags, though. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

“What, your reputation among college kids who invite you to every function even though you graduated two years early?” You joke, nodding toward his high school and college diplomas, which were framed above your fireplace. “What a thing to ruin!”

“Are you really going to bring up me graduating every chance you get?”

“Absolutely,” You kissed him sweetly, one hand smoothing over his hair. “My smart boy.”

“Okay, now you’re just buttering me up, you sap,” He ducked away, watching you cackle with a grin on his face. “How about we compromise?”

“A compromise?”

“Yes. You can make your fancy little prerolls with your mix and put them in your pretty little bags,” Your eyes widened, surprised that he was letting you do it that easily. “But, nothing else. No edibles, no flower, and none of the raw cones I’m still working through, okay?”

“I can work with that! It’s like a little side business! A partnership!”

“Yep. A partnership,” He tapped your hip and sat up slightly. “Let’s go get some stuff ready for later, alright? I’ve got to drop off to those monthly guys up in Chicago tonight.”

“Let me text some people and see if they want anything,” You got up off his lap, handing the bags off to him as he rose. “Can you put these at my seat while I go grab us some drinks?”

Eddie sighed heavily, rolling his eyes playfully. “Yes, sweetheart.”

“I love you, just a reminder!” You called as you left the room, a shit-eating grin on your face.

——

You ended up finding a few friends from college who lived in the city and wanted to try the new “dream bundles” as you called them. Each bundle was packaged with care and love, and Eddie watched endearingly as you meticulously packed each and every cone, lined them up in the bags, and even included some candies from your personal stash. The bags looked almost comical next to the brown bags that your boyfriend’s regular orders were in, but as you piled into his van, both his and your bags piled into one of your many tote bags, they looked perfect together.

He held your hand the whole two-hour drive into the city, a mixture of alternative rock and metal blaring through the speakers as you both sang along at the top of your lungs, a smile permanently etched into your lips. Eddie even let you be the one to run the bags up to each of his clients, watching with a lovesick smile and your favorite puppy dog eyes as each and every one of them smiled, happy to see you and your bubbly personality.

You practically skipped away from the final house of the night, grinning from ear to ear. You had sweet-talked the customer, a 6’3 and honestly terrifying security guard, into buying a couple of your special bundles for his girlfriend, who had waved at you from behind the open door.

With your empty tote bag swinging from your hand and your front pockets full of cash, you pranced up to Eddie, who leaned against the side of his van with a grin that could stop hearts on his face. Except, he was looking at you, who was the picture of joy.

“D’you see? I got him to buy three bundles! I told you they’d be a big seller,” You smiled brightly, chains jingling as you rocked back and forth on your heels. “He got them for his new girlfriend and he said he’d let you know how she likes them.”

“That’s great sweetheart,” He reached forward to pull you close and kiss your cheek. He watched you pull the big bills of cash out of your pocket, folded perfectly and all in the same direction and put it into his pocket instead. “We make a good team.”

“The best! You’ve gotta let me keep doing this, babe,” You pull your tote bag over your shoulder and loop your hands around his neck, stepping on the tiptoes of your boots. “They love me. And it’s so fun!”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “What kind of influence am I, huh? Getting you to enjoy this whole thing?”

“The worst ever,” You hum, smiling at his almost drunk expression as he looked at you. “I think my parents would have a conniption if they knew what I was out doing right now.”

“Oh, what will I ever do if your parents find out that I’ve corrupted their precious angel?” He laid the sarcasm on thick, reveling at the giggle you let out as he smushed a kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. He pulled back after, pecked a quick kiss to your lips, and tapped your hip with the hand that held his car keys. “C’mon. Let’s get home and pack a bowl with some of that mix you’ve been selling. I wanna see what it’s all about.”

“Really?”

He stepped back and opened the passenger side door for you. “Really really.”

“Yes!” You celebrated, grabbing his face and smacking a kiss to his lips before you leaned down into your seat. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.”

[ellieluvr420]

Friends? Never. Pt.5 (Ellie Williams x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.

You had been strolling around the market looking for food to grab for you and Ellie for well over an hour now but you loved to walk and look at all the stalls and you easily spent 30 minutes in the fruit section alone, you had also spent too long looking at all the crafts Mabel had made. Mabel was a sweet elderly woman that always had a stall full of candles and jewellery, even makeup sometimes, she had always been so kind to you, slipping you little gifts whenever you'd visit. You were thinking to yourself about all the food you could make this week and what Ellie would want when you hear a familiar southern twang behind you.

"Hey kiddo, long time no see." You turn to see Joel's crooked smile as you face him and you find yourself returning it without a second thought despite the burning in your cheeks as you're faced with the man that witnessed so closely how you treated Ellie all those years ago. You were shocked he was talking to you but you remembered Ellie going round there for dinner one night last week so you thought maybe she had told him you were both okay now.

"Hi Joel, no kidding, how you been?"

"Same old, same old, how are you liking the new house?"

"Oh it's so beautiful, we've got the woods right behind us so there's no complaints about the view. Ellie's a pretty good roommate too I guess." You say jokingly and your heart flutters just a little when he joins you with a chuckle.

"Yeah she's told me a lot."

"She has? I would say good things I hope but I doubt it." Your tone is playful but you mean what you say.

"Are you kidding? She only has good things to say about you. I'm getting sick of listening to it to be honest. How about you both come over for dinner tonight and you can both annoy me instead of just her?" You're completely taken aback by his offer but the thought of having dinner with Joel makes you remember the dinner with your parents, it still plays on a loop in your head and all you want is to think of something different when you imagine dinner with parents so you agree before you even ask Ellie. You say your goodbyes and finish up at the market before starting a pleasant stroll back to your home.

As you get closer you notice Maria striding towards you. You're shocked by the sight because there's only about 3 houses within a close distance of where you are right now as you and Ellie live right on the outskirts of Jackson, but you smile at her anyway which she returns as she continues pacing towards her next destination.

Ellie had been rereading some of her favourite comics while you went out to the market until a knock at the door interrupts her. She knew it couldn't be you because you had a key and you also knew that Ellie never locked the door because you had scolded her for it many times so her interest piqued as she rushed towards the blurry figure she could see behind the pane of glass in the middle of the front door.

"Hi Ellie sorry to just stop by like this, can I come in?" Ellie freezes as she sees Maria standing before her with a smile that didn't often grace her face.

"Oh yeah, hi Maria, what's up?" She asks as she steps aside to let Maria in.

"I wanted to come talk to you both in person because there has been an opening in one of the flats so if either of you want to move out you can."

"Oh er well she's not here right now but I'll definitely tell her but me, I'm good here, I've unpacked now and I'm settled so I'm happy to stay."

"Are you two actually getting along?"

"Well we haven't killed each other yet."

"Well that's good to hear, anyway I've got to run, let her know to come talk to me if she wants to move okay?" She smiles and opens the door to let herself out again as Ellie waves her off. As soon as the door shuts she breathes a sigh of relief that you weren't here when Maria came over, she'd feel utterly defeated if after everything you moved out and away from her just like that but then she started to wonder if you would want to move out and if she should tell you and if you'd be mad if she doesn't tell you and you find out. The thoughts were overcrowding her head as she stands frozen in the entryway until the click of the doorknob tells her you're home and she immediately lurches at the door to swing it open for you.

"Oh! Jesus Ellie you scared me."

"Sorry I heard you at the door and I thought you might want help with the bags." Her voice breaks and you raise an eyebrow at her suspiciously.

"Oh because I'm so weak I can't bring everything through to the kitchen?" Your face is sour but your voice is playful.

"You are so annoying, I said if you want help not need it." She rolls her eyes and fights the smile threatening her lips.

"Oh well in that case, that would be lovely." You smile and place the bags in her arms before strutting off to the kitchen leaving her with all the food.

"Hey I said I would help not do it all for you!" She yells.

"Can't hear you!" You drag out the last word in a sing-song fashion that prompts her to roll her eyes and just accept defeat as she starts carrying the bags to where you were in the kitchen before placing them down on the small table where you both have breakfast most mornings.

"On my way back I saw Maria round here walking back to town. Did she come here?"

"Errrr" Ellie froze, she didn't know if she should lie and deal with the consequences later down the line or tell the truth and hope you feel the same way as her but there was not enough time as the look of confusion on your face grew so her instincts kicked in. "No, no she didn't. Must've been going to one of the others."

"Hm okay, she actually smiled at me when she walked past, how crazy is that? She hasn't smiled at me since me and you have been getting sent to her for fighting every other day."

"Ha yeah that is so weird." Ellie doesn't sound convinced, she knows that, but her heart is beating way too fast for her to care, she should've told the truth but she's dug the hole now, no going back.

"Oh um by the way I have a confession, I don't think you're gonna be happy about it."

"Oh great."

"Joel invited us both to dinner tonight at his and I kinda said yes." You smile sheepishly at her as her face drops.

"Seriously? Oh my god I'm gonna die."

"Oh come on, it won't be that bad."

"Whyyyyy did you say yes? You should've said we were busy."

"You know I can't lie to that man's face and besides this is as much on you as it is me."

"Excuse you?"

"If you hadn't been saying all those lovely things about me at dinner last time he wouldn't have approached me and invited me sooo..." You trail off and end your sentence with a sickly sweet grin as her face blushes and her jaw clenches.

"I am going to kill him." You giggle as she rolls her eyes and storms off before comically running back into the room. "What time did he say?"

"Six."

"Oh my god he is so old." You laugh as she storms off again like a child before unpacking everything you had got this morning.

"Hello! Come on in, you're actually on time, I assume this was down to you and not Ellie?" He eyes you and then Ellie as you giggle at her rolling her eyes for about the 50th time today already. She had been grumpy and whiny all day about going to Joel's and it only made you laugh more each time. He beckons you into the small cabin that he had moved into, it was similar to yours and Ellie's and not too far either but his had only one bedroom and no second floor, he moved when all the housing got changed because of the influx of new arrivals as his old house had 3 bedrooms and Ellie's garage that just weren't being used anymore. You think back to the times you had spent in Ellie's garage with her and it makes you sad at the thought of someone else living there and making it their own, you feel selfish for it but you don't care, you had the best memories from when you and her would hang out together there and now its not yours or even hers anymore.

“Ellie you know where everything is, get our guest a drink and you,” he looks at you with a cheeky smile knowing how it’s going to annoy Ellie. “come sit down and relax.” Another huff and eye roll from Ellie before she walks off to the kitchen.

You and Joel had been catching up and exchanging small talk while Ellie grabbed some drinks until she joined you.

“So how’s it been living together? I see Maria’s plan worked.” It was your turn to roll your eyes now.

“It’s been fine.” “Good.” You both blurt out at the same time before exchanging an annoyed look with each other.

“Oh come on, can you really not admit that you’re friends again?” There’s that word again that made Ellie’s heart clench a little, friends, it’s true but she still doesn’t like it.

“Not if it means proving Maria right.” Ellie crosses her arms and leans back into the squishy sofa you were both seated on.

“Yeah I just can’t do that.” You agree.

“You two are way too stubborn for your own good.”

“Look who’s talking.” Ellie snipes and he laughs before slapping his knees that popped as he stood before ushering you to the table.

“You sound like you’re getting old.” Ellie laughs.

“Shut up and sit down.” You reply.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” She whisper-yells at you.

“Since when?” You smirk at the displeased look on her face before sitting down as Joel brings out the pasta bake he had made and sets it down in front of you both.

“Joel this looks amazing, thank you so much!” Your mouth is actually watering at the sight of it and Ellie can’t help but smile at the childish excitement of your expression.

Dinner was perfect, the pasta bake was one of the nicest things you had eaten in awhile, neither you or Ellie being the best cooks, and Joel’s company was so refreshing you had almost forgotten about your previous dinner experience.

“I saw you chatting with your parents at the tipsy bison the other day. Glad to see they’ve come to their senses.” You don’t miss the glare Ellie shoots at him or the small thump under the table accompanied with a hiss from Joel. You pretend to not notice the obvious kick Ellie had delivered his way as you chuckle a little.

“Not quite actually, it’s okay though really. I’m happy with how things are at the moment.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes and Ellie’s face tells of the pity she feels towards you. You mouth ‘I’m fine’ to her and look back at Joel. “Really, it’s no biggie.”

“Oh well I’ll sorry anyway.”

“Thanks.” You recover from the awkward moment well and the rest of dinner went smoothly.

You’re standing in the kitchen helping Ellie tidy up, you had both already done the washing and drying so now you were just putting everything away. You were standing at the cupboard where the plates go and as you bent down to put them away Ellie reached over you to put a glass away above your head. You gasp as you feel Ellie’s hips pressing into you from behind and immediately snap up turning to face her. “Sorry.” You mutter.

She smirks and cocks her head as she grabs onto the counter on either side of you, boxing you in. “For what?” She leans in a little and you can smell the fresh scent of her body wash that always made her smell of washing that had been dried outside. You savour it before meeting her eyes that had a mischievous sparkle.

You can’t find any words, you weren’t really sure there was an answer to her question and even if there was, you certainly wouldn’t find the words now when her nose is brushing against yours as she ghosts her lips over yours that were taking quick, shuddering breaths. You search Ellie’s eyes and despite the proximity you can still see the uncertainty and insecurity that cast a film over them and knitted her eyebrows together. All Ellie wanted to do was lean in and close the gap but something was holding her back, maybe it was the shock on your face, or the possibility you might push her away, maybe she just wants you to be the one to make the first move, maybe she needs it after everything that’s happened between the both of you.

“All done tidying up?” Joel’s voice sounds as he walks into the kitchen causing you and Ellie to both jump away from each other like you were magnets that repelled when they got too close. None of you make eye contact, all standing staring at the floor in silence until Ellie clears her throat.

“Thanks for having us old man but we should probably get back. I’m okay but she needs her beauty sleep... bad.” She points a finger in your direction but shields it from you with her other hand as if you wouldn’t see.

“Well alright.” He leads you both to the door and as Ellie walks down the steps of the porch he turns to you in a hushed manner. “I know you’ve had it rough with your parents but I promise you’ll always be accepted here.” Tears brim in your eyes and all you can think to do is hug him, you squeezed him until his back clicked which prompted you to let him go with a small apology as he laughed.

The next morning you’re standing making a drink in the kitchen when Ellie walks in with her backpack and beat-up converse on.

“Hey I’ve gotta go on patrol but I should be back by five-ish I think. Wanna watch a movie when I’m back?”

“Yeah sounds good.” You smile and she returns it before moving to walk out the door. “Be safe!” You call out and she smiles at the sentiment although you can’t see.

“Always.” You roll your eyes knowing that is a complete lie but go back to your drink as you hear the door slam shut as it always does when Ellie is entering or exiting, she had always been so heavy-handed and it’s clear that’s still the case.

You were sitting trying to read your book but it had only been an hour since Ellie left and it was still 6 hours until she came back, and all you could think about was if she was okay and safe. The thoughts spiralled until your skin was crawling and a lump in your throat had appeared. You knew Ellie was good on patrol, she was one of the best, she hadn’t grown up in Jackson so she had the knowledge of the dangers of the real world far more engrained in her than most, yet you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, it was a feeling deep in your gut that made you feel nauseous and you just couldn’t shake it no matter how much you tried to rationalise with yourself.

The hours went by painfully slowly but five pm had finally rolled around and you were sitting expectantly on the sofa waiting for the signature slamming of the door against the wall to tell you she’s home. But it never came. Five turned to five-thirty and then to six but there was no sign of Ellie. You had begun pacing well over fifteen minutes ago and you were starting to become dizzy enough that you either needed to sit down or walk in a straight line. So you walked in a straight line all the way to the gates of Jackson where you’re met with a commotion you hadn’t ever seen before, you immediately run to Jesse who has a forlorn look on his face.

“What’s going on? Why aren’t they back yet?”

“We don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW? ISN’T THAT YOUR JOB?” He looks shocked at your sudden outburst before dragging you away from the crowd whose eyes had now all fallen on you.

“I’m sorry you’re worried but we all are and freaking out doesn’t help anyone. I’m sure they’re fine, they might’ve just got held up okay.” As he speaks you hear yelling from the men standing at the guard posts on top of the wall and you breathe a sigh of relief when the gates begin to open. The first thing you do is run straight to the front of the crowd pushing and shoving past people to get there to try and get a glimpse of her auburn hair.

Your heartbeat quickens until you see the flash of red you had been waiting for but as she gets closer you see her hunched over form and the array of bruises and cuts littering the skin you could see. Two men walk over to her and Shimmer and help her down before holding her up as she hobbles away from the horse and directly at you. Her eyes meet yours and the relief turns to anger, anger at the anxiety she had caused you. You knew your reaction wasn’t fair on her but you couldn’t stop yourself regardless. You rush towards her and she smiles.

“Where the fuck were you?” You shove at her and she winces as she stumbles a little. “What the fuck happened?” You slap and hit at her chest, releasing the frustration and fear that had been pent up inside you and she let you, until she started to see black spots in her vision from your assault on her already wounded body which was when she caught both your hands in a tight grip and held them to her chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, the horde came out of nowhere. We lost three and the rest of us barely made it out.” Her words hit you hard as you shrunk back from her realising the irrationality of your outburst. “It’s okay, I’m fine but can we please go home?” She pleads and you immediately replace the guy that was holding her up with her arm over his shoulder as you start to walk her back home. Every hiss and wince, every stumble, every shaky breath made you feel worse for your initial reaction but it drove you to get her home as quick as possible so she could rest.

As Maria and Jesse watch you both walk away arm in arm they exchange a look of confusion.

"What was that about?" Jesse questioned Maria.

"No idea, but that was weird." Maria replied.

They watched you both until you were out of sight as Maria smiled to herself knowing exactly what was going on and knowing she was right to move you in together.

tags: @emiliabby @readbydayana @radioheadfan699

[abibliophobiaa]

Idea for ya: Reader and Eddie are in a competition to see if Elena's first word will be "mama" or "dada," with no success thus far. Uncle Steve comes over and picks her up, only to be greeted with an ecstatic: "TEEB!"

Elena's first word is Steve.

xoxo @munson-blurbs

a blurb from the daylight world.

dad!eddie munson x mom!reader.

——

It started around the time Elena began trying to form words. Granted, they were never full ones. Just the rounding of vowels, the formation of letters, all of which she seemed entirely enthused with.

And because of it, Eddie had started a sort of competition. Your ever competitive (now) husband thought you’d make a game of what Elena’s first would be. Which led to countless dinners spent with her little feet kicking in her high chair as you both took turns cooing, “Say Mama” and “Say Dada,” in voices that seemed out of place on your thoroughly tattooed rockstar.

But for her — for her he was always unabashed, ever doting, in love beyond words would ever come close to explaining. Those first months of tour, when you’d been unable to join him, he made true to his promise to call nearly every day. Trying his hardest to never go a night without telling you he loved you, nor a day without talking to his baby girl before she laid her head down to rest at night.

Tonight, however, happened to be one of those nights. Chrissy and Steve would be arriving soon, their newest baby girl, Brie, and Melody along with them. And given that your table would be expanded to fit from seating three to seven in mere moments, Eddie worked overtime.

He presently had his fingers curled around a waving fist, his lips smacking loudly into his giggly baby’s cheek as he repeated, “Dada” over and over again into a wrinkly neck. Repetition was his game, but you were relentless too. Distracted her with her dinner, which earned a pouted argument from Eddie, as you then reminded her “Mama” was the one who fed her from quite literally your own body for the first months of her short life, and still continued to do so now even as she’d moved onto more solid foods. And if you’d thrown strawberries onto her plate in a form of bribery she wouldn’t even understand, which you knew were her favorite, then so be it.

“She was close to saying it,” Eddie argued, watching Elena struggle a bit to force a piece of macaroni into her mouth, orange already mushing against her cheek.

“Technically the doctor says she’ll talk when she talks,” you told him, moving over to the kitchen to throw some final ingredients into the salad bowl you'd started. “And then she won’t stop after that. But I know how much it means to you, what with you being away so much.”

“I just don’t want to miss anything,” he exhaled, fingers running through his curly mane, “She'll be walking soon too.”

“I know, baby.” He leaned into your hip as you slid up to his side, fingers rubbing against his shoulder. “I know it weighs on you, but everyone always says how happy of a baby Elena is. A lot of that is thanks to her dad, you know?”

The edges of his smile spread across the palm that came up to stroke along his cheek, his fingers reaching up to tangle with your free hand. “I love you, Mrs. Munson.”

“Still with the Mrs. Munson, huh?” you teased, dropping a kiss to the top of his head, slinking back to the countertop.

“Until I get over the shock of calling you my wife, yeah,” he said, a pair of arms looping around your waist from behind, your body shuddering as lips pressed to the curve of your neck. “Which, by my estimation, will be till death do us part, and all of that romantic hub-bub.”

“You are a flirt, Eddie Munson.”

“I do what I can,” he chuckled, dropping another kiss to your temple, fingers edging along the hem of your jeans to dance along delicate skin, just as the doorbell rang out. “I got it.”

Said husband disappeared down the hall in a flash, voices filtering through the front door as you lifted Elena from her high chair, using her bib to wipe her dinner from her messy cheeks. The baby on your hip immediately bounced in attention as Chrissy called her name into the living room, Brie’s carrier clutched in one hand, with Melody rushing in ahead.

And then, the room fell into silence as Elena shrieked out, “TEEB.”

Oh no.

Your eyes darted to Eddie.

Then to Chrissy.

Lastly, to Steve, who only chuckled awkwardly, a hand curled around the back of his neck.

Eddie’s face reddened. “Oh, you’ve got to be f —”

Steve clapped a hand over Eddie’s mouth.

——

“Can’t believe Steve was her first word,” Eddie grumbled, head resting against your stomach, fingers curled around your hip.

“Technically it was ‘Teeb,’” you teased, laughter making Eddie’s head shake.

“Not helping.”

“How do you think I feel? I grew her in my body and pushed her out of it a few months later. I have the stretch marks to prove it.”

“Maybe we can start charging her rent,” Eddie murmured, squeezing your hip tighter. “Start charging her now, so when she’s older she can’t leave the house until she pays it off.”

“Ed.”

“Fine, fine,” he groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “I hope Harrington realizes I’m going to make sure Brie’s first word is Eddie. Only fair.”

Your reply was another laugh.

True to his word, that next weekend when you gathered around Steve’s living room, Eddie perched in front of baby Brie, repeating Eddie over and over again (careless to the fact she was quite literally a few weeks old).

“What is he doing?” Steve asked, appearing at your side in the kitchen, peering out at the sight together.

“He’s playing the long game of revenge,” you giggled, nose wrinkling humorously as Steve tipped his head to the side.

“I see,” Steve said in understanding, snorting.

Elena didn’t learn any new words that week. Nor the next. Nor the one after it. But a month after the now dubbed ‘TEEB Travesty,’ Elena was settled on her bottom in the living room, crashing blocks together where they lay scattered around her on the floor. You sat behind her, her form tucked between the curve of your thighs, leaning in to receive a kiss when Eddie appeared.

“Dada!” Elena wailed, chuckling her block to the floor, arms elevated in front of her on the floor where she immediately began to whimper and whine for his attention.

And Eddie beamed — brighter than you’d ever seen before as he leaned down to grab her, and told his favorite girl he loved her more than anything else in this world.

——

[livwritesstuff]

when I was little, my dad used to spin around in his desk chair and hold my hand so that I would run around in circles as a way of tiring me out, and to me that is such an Eddie thing to do. Steve probably hates it because he’s worried he’ll trip the child and hurt them

lol yeah Eddie is the absolute king of those weird dad hacks – 

He isn’t necessarily sure he was meant to be a stay-at-home dad — not that he isn’t thrilled about it, especially considering the alternative for him really is some kind of nine-to-five office-type job which he definitely wasn’t made for.

It’s kind of just how things worked out for him and Steve, because when their first daughter was born in 2001, Steve’s counseling job was strictly in-office and Eddie was already at home all the time (writing novels or whatever), so it was the natural order of things.

Don’t get him wrong – he loves it, especially when their daughters are a bit older – but his days aren’t necessarily all that productive, so when he’s got deadlines to meet, he has to get a bit creative.

Creative usually means that Steve comes home at 6pm to some kind of questionable bedlam.

His favorite was when Moe was four and Robbie nearly two and he came home to find them running circles around the kitchen island where Eddie sat typing on his computer.

Eddie: I told them to stop when they ran twenty laps.

Steve: *knows that Robbie can’t count yet, and while Moe can, she also tends to jump back to 2 as soon as she hits 11 and ends up in an infinite loop*

Steve: Sweet.

Steve: How long have they been doing this, then?

Eddie: About thirty minutes.

Steve knows that their kids aren’t made of glass. Most of Eddie’s solutions for tiring out their kids don’t bother him too much (other than raising some eyebrows over how the hell he comes up with this shit). Occasionally though, his judgment is even more baffling than usual.

Like, taping cardboard to the stairs to make a slide…fine, sure, whatever.

Taping cardboard to the stairs and sliding down on their mattresses…less fine.

Tying one end of a rope to the swing in their backyard and the other to his ankle so Hazel stays asleep while Eddie gets some writing done…Steve can understand that, given how they’re in a phase where Hazel will only doze off while she’s in that thing.

Hooking up a power drill (granted, it’s on the lowest setting) to the baby rocker so it’ll bounce on its own through naptime…absolutely not.